


Sweet Home Beacon Hills

by gottalovev



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Future Fic, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Pining, Stiles is a jerk, stiles left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles left Derek, the pack and Beacon Hills behind when he moved to Boston six years ago and never looked back. Until his girlfriend Kelly proposes to him, that is. It forces Stiles to go back to Beacon Hills in order to sort out his past, but he soon realizes that life and feelings are more complicated than that.</p><p>Made for the  reel_wolves challenge and based on the movie "Sweet Home Alabama" (2002)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Home Beacon Hills

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in the summary, this fic is for the [reel_wolves](http://beacon-hills.livejournal.com) challenge and is based on the movie "Sweet Home Alabama" (2002). Some key plot points were changed to fit the Teen Wolf universe, but if you are familiar with the source you'll clearly recognize many others including some dialog ;)
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the movie but who'd like a run down about the content, especially about the pairings, see the notes at the end.
> 
> As a FYI, the timeline diverges from canon after 3a. For reasons.
> 
> I want to thank my beta [munibunny](http://munibunny.livejournal.com) for her constant encouragement and her big help to make this fic better. A grateful kudo to [Ldyanne](http://ldyanne.livejournal.com), too, who did a final read through :)

__

_There's blood, so much blood – not even a drop of it is his, that's even worse somehow - and Stiles thinks he's going to throw up._

_"I swear, you do this all the time just to make me panic," Stiles bitches. He hates how his hands are slippery and the way it makes it difficult to hold Derek's skin together in the hope that it helps the healing._

_Derek grins, blood on his teeth even, and he's so beautiful even almost sliced in half that Stiles' heart skips._

_"What the hell are you smiling about, jackass? Oh my god, I don't understand you."_

_"But you do," Derek says softly. "You do get me."_

_Which… makes some twisted sense. "I get that you are an impossible, reckless, selfless martyr, I do get that," Stiles admits. Of course Derek threw himself in front of a hunter armed with a sword for a young werewolf they barely know. That's Derek Hale in a nutshell._

_"I never asked my mom, about, you know," Derek says._

_His eyes are unfocused, tone going soft, as if he's drifting and he doesn't end that sentence. It's bad, real bad. Derek never shares about his family willingly, that he does it now is proof that he's in bad shape._

_"Derek? Hey, hey, stay with me," Stiles says, shaking him a little. Where are the others, dammit? Derek needs help now. "What did you want to ask your mom?"_

_Thankfully, Derek's eyes open again. "Not important," he slurs, then he smiles again, reaches up for Stiles, fingers oh so soft as they caress the side of his face reverently. "Always knew that for me it would be until death tore us apart."_

_Isn't that a punch to the gut? They've been together for months, a relationship where they keep fighting and making up, and it always blindsides Stiles how Derek can be so withdrawn only to suddenly come out with the most explosive show of feelings._

_"What the hell, Derek Hale? Are you proposing to me?"_

_Derek huffs in amusement, but still manages to look earnest when he answers with a question of his own. "Would you say yes?"_

_"Survive this, ask me again, and we'll see," Stiles says. Of course he'd say yes. He knows Derek understands because he smiles even wider, though his eyes start to look unfocused again._

_"Good. Good." He's going slack in Stiles' arms, and Stiles can't take this, it's a fucking nightmare._

_"Derek, dammit, stay with me! Shittiest proposal ever, by the way!"_

_"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Derek murmurs. "I lo-" he starts and, lo and behold, he passes out._

_Stiles starts cackling hysterically while tears stream down his face. This can't be happening, Derek can't be dying in his arms after a terrible not quite proposal. It's not true that he keeled over half way saying 'I love you' for the first time. That's just like Derek, though, getting out of expressing his emotions at all cost. There's a faint pulse under Stiles' finger at Derek's throat, at least. For now._

_"Derek! Derek Hale, I forbid you to die, do you hear me? Derek!"  
_

**

Stiles is the one being shaken now, and he opens his eyes, totally disoriented to pass from the dark warehouse where there was blood – Derek's blood – everywhere to a bright room with sunlight hitting him in the face. He squints but there's a loud kiss on his temple, a cheerful voice in his ear.

"Hey baby, wake up!"

It only takes a second for Stiles' brain to change gears, to realize he dreamt of something that happened years ago, that is all. Derek, the last he heard, is alive and well in Beacon Hills and Stiles' reality these days is thankfully blood free. Unaware of the confusion going on in Stiles' head, Kelly is looking at him with her megawatt smile and sparking blue eyes. 

"There you are. You were dreaming again," she says, carding delicate fingers in his hair. 

"I was?"

"Yeah," Kelly's tone is soft, a bit worried. It's a good thing the nightmares are further and further apart now. "If you want to share…"

Kelly made the same offer so many times, but Stiles doesn't want to talk about the nightmares nor the people in them. It's better when he doesn't even think about Beacon Hills and everything he left back there.

"No, no," Stiles says, sitting up. "You know that I never remember whatever it is."

Since Kelly isn't a walking lie detector, she doesn't get frustrated it's untrue and that he's avoiding the subject, but Stiles does feel a little bit guilty about lying.

"Anyway, it's time to wake up. It's your big day today!"

Stiles immediately zeros on the alarm clock and… It's 8 o'clock?

"Oh my god!" he exclaims, panicked. He can't be late today! "What? How! Why did you let me sleep?!"

It's his big break, the first huge opportunity for his consultant firm and his sales pitch for the add campaign is in three little hours. Stiles needs to revise his presentation, make sure the animation is flawless, double check the equipment, maybe do another backup copy-

Thinking about all of this on top of trying to get up in a hurry is not optimal and Stiles gets tangled in the sheets, squawks in outrage when he can't get up, but is then tackled back to the mattress by Kelly who's laughing at him so hard there are tears in her eyes.

"What the hell?" he protests, but her amusement is infectious and Stiles smiles when she straddles his hips, a determined look on her face. "I am late, woman. Do not try to distract me."

"You have plenty of time," Kelly says, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She ticks off items on her fingers as she talks. "You tripled checked everything before going to bed, your clothes are chosen, the coffee's brewing, and you don't want to look so desperate for the contract that you'll arrive there over an hour early." 

"I don't?" Stiles asks for form, because she's right. 

"You don't. What you need is to relax."

Stiles slides his hands up Kelly's thighs as she winks lewdly. It's adorable, especially since she's in her favorite Winnie the Pooh pajamas. 

"But how?" he asks, playing innocent. They both know where this is going and Stiles is conscious he has the most perfect girlfriend ever. 

"I might have an idea or two," Kelly says, leaning down to kiss him.

* *

Stiles does, indeed, nail the presentation. He can't be sure that he has the contract yet, but it goes without a hitch, everyone laughs almost as if on cue and they look very impressed when Stiles shakes their hands at the end. There is much fist pumping as he drives back home, where he climbs the stairs three by three, and he practically falls face first in the apartment in his enthusiasm to tell Kelly. He startles her badly with his entrance, her eyes comically round, but after one look at his face she's screaming and jumping straight into his arms. 

"I knew it!" she shouts, wrapping her arms and legs around him like the tiny spider monkey she is. "You're the best!"

He laughs, spinning her around easily. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't have it yet."

"I'm sure you do. Your campaign is amazing." Kelly's faith in his success has always been unshakable, and was so way before they started dating. 

Stiles makes a face. "Meh, it's not bad. You, on the other hand, are amazing."

"Awww, stop it," Kelly coos, batting her eyes as if it's a joke she's playing along with, but she's blushing for real. He kisses her cheek, she's so cute.

"Amazing, adorable, sweet, lovely, …" Stiles enumerates, punctuating each word with a kiss, marveling at how Kelly just turns pinker and pinker.

Kelly laughs and shuts him up with a kiss of her own on the mouth. "Enough! I love you, so much," she says, so earnest.

Stiles grins. "I know. I love you, too." 

She's so warm, caring, a steady love that you can count on. They'd been friends for years when one day, out of nowhere in his opinion, Kelly had kissed him as he'd brought her back to her place after a movie. She had laughed at his startled face, saying she'd understand if he wanted to remain just friends, but that she'd been thinking of him as more for a while. It had been so easy to just go with it, no pressure and no expectations, a quiet sort of wonder making him feel good again after so long. A year in and they are living together, fitting seamlessly, never fighting. The quiet domesticity feels right. 

"You know what?" Kelly says, readjusting her arms around his neck. Stiles hums, expecting that she wants to eat out to celebrate. "We should get married."

At first, Stiles thinks he heard wrong, and he blinks in surprise. 

"What?"

Kelly makes a face, scrunching her nose comically. "Ah, damn. Not romantic enough, right?"

So she did propose marriage. Oh. Since he's still gaping like a possibly very unattractive fish, Kelly pushes his chin up to close his mouth. 

"Did I break you?" she asks. "Girls can ask boys to marry them, you know."

She's not nervous, or anxious he could say no, just calm and sure of herself and of their love. And why wouldn't she be? What they have is more than most people will ever experience.

"I know. Wow."

"You're my best friend, my love, I just feel we're there, you know?" Kelly unhooks her legs from around his waist, and slides to the ground. He doesn't like the idea of her slipping away in any way; she's everything he has.

"Yes," he blurts, reeling her close. "Yes, I want to marry you."

Kelly beams. "Yes?"

He smiles too, his heart speeding. Of course he wants to keep her, and if that means marriage, why not? Sure, the end of his first marriage broke his heart and almost shattered him, but he deserves happiness. This time will be so different.

"Yes!" he says, bending down to frame Kelly's face to bring her into a kiss. "You surprised me, that's all!"

"Kind of my trademark, it seems," Kelly says with a wink.

"Yeah," he says, fondly. She only surprised him twice but it's been big ones. "Wow, a wedding. Things to plan, huh?"

Stiles' head is swimming. There's something that he never told Kelly, and that he pushes to the back of his mind relentlessly. 

On paper, he's still married to Derek.

It's been six years since Stiles left Beacon Hills and a life that nearly tore him apart. He never went back, hasn't seen or heard from Derek since, and the divorce isn't finalized. Stiles never thought he'd marry again until five minutes ago, so it had been an annoyance more than anything. Clearly he needs to take care of it as soon as possible. 

He considers telling Kelly about it, but the words get stuck in his throat. She looks so happy right now, he can't ruin this moment for her. When they first met, five years ago, he was just settling into his new life and learning how to breathe again. They were classmates, and at the first casual question about where he was from he'd just glossed over everything in broad strokes: only son of a small town Sheriff, mom gone for years, troubled teenage years but that he'd left everything behind to finish his degree in Boston. New start, new life, new Stiles, that was his motto. He never lied, but he never talked about his past unless someone asked directly (and for sure he never mentioned werewolves, even when they became common knowledge). 

Kelly had asked about his romantic history, once, and Stiles mentioned his bisexuality, that he only had one serious relationship before, with a guy, but that it hadn't ended well. That the break up was a big part of why he'd left California, but that ultimately it gave him the best lesson of his life: what he needed in a relationship and a partner. That had been that: no details, no names, no fuss made on her part. 

Stiles considers he's been truthful, save from everything that he omitted (which yes, yes, he knows is not total honesty). The supernatural fucked up his life for too many years, killed several of his friends and gave him recurring nightmares. Was it absolutely necessary to open that Pandora’s box for someone like Kelly, who has always had a normal life? He hadn't thought so. She has such a beautiful and hopeful view on life, he didn't want to mess with it. No, he needs to keep the secret a little longer until he settles his divorce with Derek, like adults, then he'll tell Kelly about it. He'll even tell her how Derek's a werewolf and about the nightmares, because marriage is supposed to be about full disclosure. No need to do it on their engagement day, though. 

"Stiles? Hey!" 

He comes back to the moment to Kelly snapping her fingers near his face. "Wow, you were far away. I was asking if you wanted to call your dad?"

"I'm not sure… you know I haven't seen my dad in a while, I think I should probably tell him in person?" It does give Stiles the perfect cover to travel to Beacon Hills in order to get the papers signed, and nobody needs to know or get hurt. 

"Of course," Kelly says, smiling. 

"And, I, huh, I think I should do it alone?" Stiles says, uncomfortable that he's being so secretive.

Kelly frowns. "I'm going to have to meet him eventually."

"I know, I know! And he'll love you, it's just… I'd like to ease him into the idea? I'm pretty sure that getting married will make him realize I'm never going back and I just – " That's the truth, at least. Stiles knows that his dad still thinks he's eventually going to come back home, and getting married and setting roots in Boston is pretty much the end of that delusion.

"Fine," Kelly says, all but rolling her eyes.

"Just a weekend," Stiles promises. "Then we'll plan everything."

Derek is washing oil off his hands when he hears the sound of a strange car in the driveway. Red starts starts barking his little head off, but that's pretty par for the course. It's good, even: Derek doesn't like strangers on his property and a big Rottweiler like Red keeps people away (as long as they don't discover he's the biggest marshmallow on Earth). On the other hand, there's a minuscule chance that whomever has decided to drive up to his house is here for a legitimate reason. Putting his friendliest face on, Derek steps out onto the porch.

"He's loud but he doesn't bite. How can I help you?"

It's only when he's out in the open that the sensations hit him in rapid succession: he knows that heartbeat. He also knows that smell all too well, and it hits him at the core, almost makes Derek's knees give out. A quick look at the newcomer confirms that, yes, it's Stiles, dressed in a sharp three-piece suit that fits him like a glove. He's breathtakingly beautiful.

Derek's heart flips in his chest, and he's glad that Stiles can't hear the ridiculousness of it. On the other hand, apart from being a familiar face, the man next to the car could be a stranger with every little element of his posture defensive and closed off.

"Well, for starters you can get your stubborn ass down here and give me a divorce," Stiles says.

It's shock, probably, that makes Derek gape at Stiles who is shaking the papers at him. 

"Come on, the joke's over, let's just finish this, I have a plane to catch," Stiles says. "There are even idiot proof tabs to make it easy: one copy for me, one copy for you, and one copy for the lawyers."

Now that his brain comes back online, Derek cannot help the anger surging up. How dare Stiles be so casual about this? About the fact that it's the first time they are face to face in so long?

"You show up here after six years, without so much as a 'hey there, Derek, remember me, your husband?'" Derek says, tone vicious. "Did you lose your manners, wherever it is you've been?"

Stiles' face gets that pinched look that Derek hates so much. "You knew where I was," he says, like an accusation. "And don't even pretend you've spent all of this time missing me."

Those words are the worst kind of blow because Derek _did_ try to get over Stiles, he really did, but he still misses him like a severed limb. He cannot even comprehend that Stiles would not know that, but then again Derek never quite could get Stiles to understand how much he meant to him.

Stiles shakes the divorce papers again. "Come on, my lawyer bills me every time you send these papers back, it's not funny anymore."

"Well, I'm glad you finally got the message," Derek says. 

Not signing the papers was a way to keep a link, even symbolic, but Derek did it to give himself more time to make things right. After a while that hope faltered, but the idea that not signing could lure Stiles back to Beacon Hills was there, too.

Red hasn't stopped barking, which is very annoying so Derek turns to shout at him.

"Shut up, Red!"

Just as Stiles cries out, "Shut up, Ross!"

When Stiles realizes the names don't match, he frowns. "What happened to Ross?"

"He died, you weren't here," Derek spits out. 

It's a low blow, he knows it, but he's pissed. Ross getting sick and dying only months after Stiles left had all but undone Derek. Stiles looks stricken at the news and Derek can't take it anymore, he turns around and goes back towards the door.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asks.

"I'm leaving," Derek answers. "You've done it, you should recognize the gesture."

Stiles’ deep annoyance is so strong, it fills the air. "Can we just try to keep this as civilized as possible? Please sign these papers so I can go home."

Wow, that's rich. "What do you know from home?" Derek asks, whirling around. "Hell, I bet your dad doesn't even know you're in town."

"That's my business," Stiles replies, but it seems that Derek hit a nerve. It makes him want to push, to sink his claw in, to hurt as much as he's hurting right now.

"Honey, he's the only family you've got."

It's true, too. Derek knows how hard it was for the Sheriff to suddenly lose Stiles, and Derek will never stop feeling guilty about ruining that relationship, too. John Stilinski has been nothing but kind with him since, which is more than he deserves.

Stiles splutters in outrage. "Don't you honey me, honey."

"Get your butt back in that car, drive over and see him, and then maybe we'll talk."

"Derek!" Stiles all but shrieks. "Are you done, you fucking stubborn werewolf? The only reason you won't sign these papers is because I want you to."

Which is so frigging untrue, Derek doesn't know where to start. He doesn't want to be divorced from Stiles. He has never wanted to fuck their marriage so bad that Stiles would give up and then run away. But now, face-to-face for the first time in six years, Derek can't find the words for the apology he's been rehearsing for so long. Instead his old habits come back, and he just hurls insults like he never learned anything.

"Wrong. The only reason I haven't signed is because you turned into a snobbish pretentious asshole, and I'd like nothing better right now than to piss you off."

Jesus Christ, Derek can't take this anymore. He needs space, right now, so he stalks back into the house, followed by Red.

The door slams shut behind Derek and his dog, and Stiles can't believe this shit. He forgot how _infuriating_ the man is. And he locked the door, too! Stiles chances a look underneath the mailbox and is happily surprised that the hide-a-key is still there. He needs the divorce papers signed, and he's going to nag Derek until he does it. Resolutely, Stiles opens the door, and goes to sit at the kitchen's island, absolutely sure that Derek won't resist confronting him now that he entered the house. As he thought, it takes all but two seconds for Derek to storm into the kitchen, looking murderous.

"Hey genius, next time you lock somebody out, make sure they don't know where the spare key is hidden," Stiles taunts.

"That's the nice thing about hidden keys. It would be nice if your husband told you where it was," Derek yells.

"I'm not your husband, Derek. I am just the first person you were with that didn't turn out to be cursed or evil," Stiles says, softer than anything he's said so far. Derek had been so taken by surprise at someone loving him back genuinely that he hadn't known what to do with it. He continues, because he feels that Derek needs to hear this. "But you're right, I have changed. I don't even know that guy anymore."

Derek looks poleaxed, all of his anger shutting down into blankness. 

"Well, then, allow me to remind you," he says, taking his phone from the counter and going into the study, once again followed by his dog that had been observing the argument from the living room. Derek closes the door behind him, which leaves Stiles alone and frustrated. 

What can Stiles do now? Obviously, Derek is just as pig headed as he's ever been, which makes Stiles worry he'll refuse to sign out of spite. Stiles wonders if he should just give up and go back to Boston with Kelly, sit her down, and explain everything. He's busy imagining how dreadfully that hypothetical explanation would unfold when there's the flash of a squad car rolling up to the house. Stiles’ stomach drops at the idea that this is how he has to face his dad.

"You did _not_ call my father," Stiles yells.

Derek comes out of the study, face like thunder once again, but instead of talking to Stiles, he opens the door. The deputy who's climbing on the porch is thankfully not his dad, and Stiles squints, trying to better see around Derek because the thin woman cop has a familiar gait. When Stiles sees her face, his jaw drops.

"Allison?"

It is indeed Allison, as beautiful as ever, dressed in a deputy uniform, and the next thing Stiles knows, she has rushed to him and they're hugging. Oh, god, he has missed her.

"Stiles, wow," she says, as they separate. Her smile is blinding, and the dimples are out in full force.

"You're a cop!" Stiles breathes out with awe. How come he hadn't known that? It does drive the point home that he's all but severed every tie if his dad didn't think he'd want to hear that development.

"Nous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux meme," Allison says, winking. "Goes pretty well with 'Serve and protect', or so I think."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees. "Plus the uniform is totally sexy."

Allison laughs. "You clean up nice yourself, mister." 

"Allison," Derek interjects. "Try to be a little more professional about this, we've got us a crime suspect."

That does make the smile drop off Allison's face, and she frowns now.

"Now Stiles, you can't break into people's houses."

Is that what Derek used as an excuse to call the police? Stiles scoffs, shows the hide-a-key.

"I didn't break in, Allison, I used the key. My key."

"It still isn't your house, I'm going to have to escort you out," she says with regret, looking sideways at Derek who has his arms crossed over his chest, trying to look imposing.

"Use the cuffs Allison, please," Derek says with a sneer.

Maybe Stiles can use this unexpected twist to his advantage, though. He picks the divorce papers he'd put down on the counter earlier and extend them to her, pleading.

"Allison, if you can just get him to sign those papers, I'll go. No fuss."

Allison, curious, takes them while Derek tries to snatch them back.

"That's none of your concern," Derek says, but Allison avoids him easily, twisting away. 

She frowns at what she reads. 

"A bill of divorce?" she asks Stiles. He nods and Allison turns to Derek. "I thought you said you took care of this?"

"I thought I had," Derek says, the liar. 

"Obviously not!" Stiles says, exasperated.

"If you two are still married, this is his house, too," Allison argues, putting the papers down and she's already walking backwards toward the door. It's familiar to the way their friends used to scatter every time Stiles and Derek started an argument. "This is nothing but a domestic dispute. We need to catch up, Stiles, but I'm going to let you two…"

"If he'd just sign the papers!" Stiles pleads. She can't go, leave him with a stubborn Derek who looks convinced not to comply even if Stiles argues with him until they are both blue in the face.

"He didn't even tell his dad he's in town," Derek says, surprising Allison, who turns to squint at Stiles with judgment. "I'm pretty sure that he planned to leave without even saying hello as soon as those papers got signed."

"What?" Allison says, looking angry, and Stiles gets defensive.

"That's a lie," he says.

Derek smirks. "No, _that_ was a lie."

"Fucking lie detectors on two legs, I hate you," Stiles explodes. He's always resented that he could not hide anything from the wolves.

Allison looks pinched. She grips Stiles' upper arm and starts dragging him towards the door.

"Ow, ow!" he protests. "Police brutality, let me go!"

"No. You are coming with me to see your dad right now, and then you'll settle this with Derek."

"Since when do you take his side?" Stiles complains, but he does sit in the squad car.

"I'm not taking sides, Stiles." She is silent for a couple of minutes as they drive away from Derek's property. "He has missed you, you know."

She might be talking about his Dad, or Derek, or both even, but Stiles doesn't want to talk about it. He's silent during the ride, thinking about how it's infuriating that Derek is still so frigging attractive, but at the time such a stubborn ass. It's unfair that upon seeing Derek step out on the porch, all that Stiles had been able to think about was how much he had loved that man, so intensely that it still hurt to see him.

After a couple of minutes, Stiles turns to Allison, wonders at how she might have aged a little but she's even more beautiful now. She looks good, happy. 

"I shouldn't have been surprised that you’re a cop. It fits so well, and you've always been the strong human."

"You've never given yourself enough credit," Allison replies.

"Come on, life here was a disaster," Stiles says. "The day we got married, Derek could barely stand. Had he been anything but a werewolf, he would have keeled over from severe blood loss."

Allison shrugs. "It's calmer here now."

"I sure hope so, for all of your sakes," Stiles says. It's good to hear, because he thought about it a lot, at first.

Allison is turning onto a street in a neighborhood that Stiles doesn't know.

"Hey, where – " he starts but Allison interrupts him.

"Your dad moved in with Scott's mom, you know that."

Right, right, he does know that. Life moved on while Stiles was gone. It's not without dread that he gets out of the police car and follows Allison who's ringing the door. 

"Hello, Allison. Is everything all right?" his dad is saying while Stiles stands behind her, cowardly hiding. Why didn't he call, gave his dad a head's up? True, he hadn't quite planned to even come over, afraid that the guilt of leaving his dad behind, too, would swallow him whole, but now because of Derek he has to face the music.

"Yes, it is, it's not the job. I just thought you might want to see this idiot," Allison says, stepping aside to reveal Stiles making a dorky little wave.

"Hey. Surprise?"

The smile that spreads on his Dad's face is spectacular and Stiles is soon engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. He clings back desperately, the surge of feelings so strong he wonders if his knees will give out. It's strong, safe, family, and Stiles' eyes fill with tears, as he sways in his dad's embrace. Melissa comes over to see what the commotion is about and she joins the hug, rubbing Stiles' back and saying how happy she is to see him.

"I have to go, see you later?" Stiles hears Allison say, but all he can do is raise a hand, wiggle his fingers a bit. Ten minutes ago, he resented that she and Derek were forcing this reunion when Stiles didn't feel ready for it, but now he's just grateful. 

Stiles knew he had missed them, greatly, but this is almost overwhelming. Why has he denied himself of something so important for so long? It’s reluctantly that he lets go when the hug ends. His father is still smiling, but his eyes are suspiciously wet, too. 

"It's so good to have you home," Melissa says, guiding him into the house. 

"Nice place," Stiles says, taking in the open floor plan. From what he can see there is a lot of golden wood everywhere and comfy leather furniture in the living room, with colorful cushions and green plants making splashes of colors. It looks lived in, a happy home. Stiles is irrationally irked at himself that he had no part in setting it up, apart from a lame housewarming gift sent through a net order.

"Thank you," his father says. "I can't believe that it's already been two years on Christmas Eve since we started moving in together." 

"Oh, you mean the Christmas when you were supposed to come and visit me?" Stiles is horrified even as the words leave his mouth, but he had taken it hard, at the time. He hates that the smile dims on his dad's face.

"The door swing both ways, Stiles," his dad says with a weary sigh and Stiles wishes he hadn't come after all. He's going to fuck everything up because he's emotional and that makes him lose all filters. Obviously, his dad doesn't want to fight or play the blame game either, because he immediately follows with. "You know, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, son."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. And I'm happy, now. You know, I really made something of myself in Boston. I have a career. I'm starting to get noticed in the marketing circles, and that's huge for someone barely out of grad school. And the reason I came down here is because I just got engaged. She's fantastic, dad, she loves me, and I love her. I just need to get Derek to finally sign the divorce papers." 

The smile is back on his father's face, the fondness too. "If that's what you want, do what you have to do. But I've truly, honestly missed you. I am so sorry it's been so long."

Stiles moves in for another hug. "I missed you, too."

Derek gives up on a totally unproductive day at work and decides to go home. He's hasn't had his head in the game all day, his thoughts straying to Stiles being in town over and over again, without the faintest idea how to sort out the emotions that come with that. Stiles' rental is still in his driveway, which is a bit surprising because he thought he'd come to get it. Even weirder is that now that he's close enough, Derek can hear Stiles moving in the house. Wearily, Derek walks to the screen door and frowns when he sees that Stiles is cooking dinner. It makes no sense and Derek has to stomp hard on the feeling of rightness to see him there, like a flashback of happier times.

As he enters the house, the smell of chemicals and bleach hit Derek square in the face, and already his confusion is turning to annoyance. He keeps the place clean but now it seems to have been completely scrubbed and disinfected, with the ammonia that Stiles is perfectly aware Derek is sensitive to. Also, whatever Stiles is cooking smells good, but it's drowning in ginger so the combination is too much for his overloaded senses, which he supposes is the goal.

"What the hell?" Derek asks, throwing his keys towards the bowl on the counter. Red comes to greet him and Derek has a spare thought that he's a terrible guard dog. He scratches him behind the ears anyway. "What are you doing here?"

The smile Stiles gives him is so fake, it makes Derek's stomach churn. 

"Now, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't do my share around the house?" Stiles says, before taking a sip of red wine.

Okay, so this is a trench war, then. Since two can play that game, Derek takes a beer from the fridge – a brand he doesn't know – and pops the top of the can with a claw.

"Whatever makes you happy," he says with a shrug. He tries to seem unaffected, but nonetheless Derek decides to go in the living room, hoping it might smell less of chemicals.

"Oh, by the way, it was such a relief to cut a such big part of my student loans today," Stiles says, in a sick parody of every day conversation. "It's ridiculous how we indebt ourselves in the name of education." 

At first, the statement doesn't make much sense, but as Derek takes big gulps of his beer until it's drained, it dawns on him. Stiles wouldn't have dared -

"Just a guess, but I'm thinking the words 'joint checking' are flashing in your head right now," Stiles says.

Derek crunches the can in his fist and whirled around. This is a disaster.

"How much did you take?" he asks urgently.

"All of it!" Stiles sneers.

"Son of a bitch!" Derek swears and throws the empty can towards the recycling bin. He's so mad that he puts too much force into it and the can bounces out and makes Red whelp in alarm. That he scared his dog pisses him off even more.

He can't believe Stiles took all of the money in the account; there are so many people that rely on him. He can't let Stiles jeopardize what he worked so hard to build.

"You want a husband, you've got a husband," Stiles says snidely, and he's getting worked up too. "And what are you doing with all of that cash? Why don't you invest it? Don't you know anything?"

Absolutely livid, Derek points a finger towards the door. He makes his voice as calm as he can, reigning the wolf in. "I know that if you don't get out of this house right now –" he starts.

Stiles cuts him. "Sign the papers, and I'll give it all back."

Really, is that how it's going to be? Suddenly, Derek is completely fed up. Stiles is just as much of a brat as he was when he first met him, and prolonging this failed marriage is pointless. Obviously, they'll never work it out, it was a pipe dream that Derek just held on to for too long.

"Fine," he says, heading to the living room coffee table where the divorce papers are conveniently waiting.

"Fine!" Stiles repeats, following close and suddenly smelling smug. Derek hates it.

"Give me the pen," Derek snaps as they face each other, now separated by the table and the fucking papers.

Stiles is about to give him the pen but changes his mind at the last second, taking it away. He's got his suspicious face on. "Hold on. What are you doing with all of that cash saved up?"

When Stiles left, they had used the last of Derek's savings from his family's insurance policies to buy the house, and he worked at Joe's while Stiles went through college. 

"Give me the pen," Derek demands again. 

"And since when did you quit the auto shop? You're not doing anything illegal are you, Derek?" Stiles asks.

"Maybe I am, so what. I don't ask you about your girlfriend, you keep your nose out of my life. Deal?"

Stiles' jaw drops open. "Who told you?" he asks, suddenly more subdued. Is that the smell of guilt? Wow, the nerve of the guy.

"I don't talk a lot, but it doesn't mean I'm stupid," he says, grabbing the pen out of Stiles' grip. Stiles scent was overlaid with someone else’s yesterday, a woman, and even though it's been a little while since he did a masochist trip to Boston to check on Stiles, he's seen him with his friends. That he'd get a girlfriend or a boyfriend eventually was inevitable.

Derek slumps down on the couch, suddenly bone weary. He can't deal with this in any productive way. Stiles is right, they don't know each other anymore.

"Look, Derek," Stiles starts, sounding regretful. There's that guilt again.

Derek sighs, pokes at the paper with his pen. "A werewolf finding his true mate is a stupid notion, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess," Stiles says quietly.

Derek looks up to the man his whole being longs for, still, but it's just impossible. Maybe if Stiles was a werewolf too. But he's not. 

"I mean, where's the fun in that, right?" Derek says, managing a small smile.

Stiles smiles too, sad and somehow a little bit fond.

Derek looks down at the papers, and the best thing to do would be to just sign at the tabs. Give them both a clean break. He can't, though, not right now. The papers are swimming before his eyes and he hates that Stiles has the power to make him feel so raw inside, shaken, and even though he _knows_ it's a self-destructive defense mechanism, Derek feels anger surge up once again. He'll sign the damn papers, but on his own time. He has sworn that no one would take control from him ever again, and he won't let even Stiles do it.

"Oh hey, Stiles, you know what?" Derek says, deceptively cheerful because he knows it's going to freak Stiles out. By the look of it, it's working. "I just remembered I have a date! You don't mind if I have my lawyer take a look at these do you?" he says, shaking the divorce papers as he gets up.

"What?"

As he walks towards the bedroom, Derek takes off his shirt.

"Better be safe than sorry, right? You might be taking me to the cleaners, for all I know."

As he goes through his closet looking for another shirt, he can see from the corner of his eye that Stiles is hovering by the door, though he seems to be studiously avoiding looking at him. The whiff of arousal that reaches Derek is unmistakable and it might be petty, but it's satisfying to know that at least he still is attractive to Stiles, if nothing else.

"The cleaners? You?" Stiles asks, getting agitated. "Just sign the damn papers!"

"Nah. But thanks for stopping by," Derek says while he walks by Stiles. He leaves with the papers and a smirk on his face.

"Oh, god!" Stiles shouts, accompanied by a sound of inarticulate rage.

Derek isn't even surprised that Stiles follows him to the bar where the pack plays pool every Friday night. He leaves the divorce papers on his car's back seat and figures he has approximately two minutes to warn the others before Stiles joins them, wanted or not. They're all there: Scott, Allison, Cora, Isaac, Danny, the twins, and the three former Omegas who joined the pack in the last couple of years, Mindy, Stella and Eric. 

"Stiles is here," Derek says without preamble as soon as he reaches the pool tables they hijack every week.

Scott beams. "I heard! Allison just told us! Does someone have his cell number?"

Derek thinks it's pretty sad that _Scott_ doesn't have Stiles cell number, but he's not going to bring that up. When Stiles moved away, he cut ties with everyone, not just Derek. They all had to mourn his loss, and Scott had taken it badly (he blamed Derek for a long time, too, rightfully).

"You won't need it, I mean he's here, right now," Derek says, gesturing to the door. Lo and behold, here comes Stiles, still on the warpath judging from his body language. 

Scott moves so fast to tackle Stiles into a full body hug that he never sees it coming. After a fraction of second of looking surprised, Stiles hugs back, his eyes closing and every single person who happens to see those two morons know that the reunion is something special, no werewolf noses needed to decode the heightened emotions. 

"Geez, what is going on?" Stiles says, voice wavering. "Is it Hug week? Hug central? I turn around and there's a new hug!"

He's not letting Scott go, though. Until he gets forced out of it and gets an armful of Isaac instead, that is. 

"I don't know why I'm doing this, I didn't miss you at all, asshole," Isaac says.

"Me neither," Stiles says.

(Liars, the both of them.) 

Cora moves to Derek, puts a hand on his forearms and mouths 'are you okay?' Her obvious concern is welcome, but Derek shrugs. He's not great but maybe this whole ordeal will bring him some closure at last. She pats his arm and offers a tight little smile. 

"Stilinski," the twins say, clapping him on the back, but then Cora herself goes to Stiles, after Derek nudges her towards him. He knows she wants to.

"Well look at that, my favorite brother-in-law!" she drawls, and there goes another hug. Those two had become quite close over the year and a half Derek and Stiles were together, something Derek weirdly resented at the time. 

"Soon to be ex brother-in-law," Stiles says.

Meanwhile, Derek goes to Mindy, who is watching the scene with clear interest. He curls an arm around her waist.

"I told him I had a date. Can you do me a solid and play along?" he whispers in her ear.

Mindy smirks up at him, her dark eyes mocking. "You want to make the elusive husband jealous?"

Derek shakes his head. "No. I just had to get out of the house and I said the first thing that passed through my mind." Mindy raises an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I want to look as over him as he's over me." Childish, but true.

There's a definite softening in Mindy's expression, who combs her fingers in his hair a little and pulls him down for a peck on the lips. "Okay, sure. It's not like we've never tried." 

"Thank you," Derek says gratefully as Mindy loops her arms around his waist, too. 

She's beautiful, wide smile illuminating her face, the dark chocolate of her skin nearly as deep as the brown of her eyes. Not for the first time, Derek wishes there was a switch that he could flip so that his stupid heart and his stupid brain could get the memo to just let go of what he'll never have again. 

"And this is Eric and Stella," Scott tells Stiles. "They joined us three years ago." 

Mindy, ever proactive, turns in Derek’s arms and offers her hand to Stiles.

"And I'm Mindy, the newest addition," she says, smiling genuinely. 

Stiles tilts his head to the side, his eyes jumping from her to Derek. He smiles at Mindy and then shakes her hand, being as charming as he can be. From the look – and the smell - of things, he's mainly curious, not angry or disturbed. It shouldn't be disappointing for Derek, but he can't help that it is.

"I'm Stiles, very pleased to meet you. So you're the date?"

"I'm the date," Mindy says with a wink. 

"Here's one for you, loser," Isaac says, appearing with a beer that he gives Stiles.

"Thanks," Stiles says, distracted from Mindy immediately, especially when Scott offers him a pool cue with the biggest puppy eyes known to men. Forget Alpha powers, those are Scott's most effective weapon of all.

"What about a game?" Scott asks.

For a second Stiles wavers, but then he smiles and takes the cue from Scott.

"Sure, why not."

**

The evening starts somewhat tense because they don't quite know how to move around Stiles anymore – or that might only be Derek – but rapidly old inside jokes make a comeback and they are having quite a good time. It doesn't hurt that Isaac and Scott kept Stiles supplied with alcohol, which mellowed him a lot. 

"I couldn't believe that shit! I still wonder if it was all orchestrated, it was masterfully done," Stiles says, gently swaying as he uses his cue as a prop to stay upright.

He's talking about the Big Werewolf Reveal, as he has dubbed it. Four years ago, to the world's surprise, Taylor Lautner had revived a moribund career by revealing exclusively to Rolling Stones that he was a bona fide werewolf. The shock wave had been universal and sudden, but just as panic had begun to rise, other celebrities had come out of the werewolf closet, as Stiles put it. Tom Hardy, Zoe Saldana, the Hemsworth brothers… suddenly idols everywhere were seen differently. The public, led by hordes of fans and soon followed by the student and human rights activist movements, had systematically counterattacked the fear campaigns that had started to appear. Sure, even to this day there were preachers and churches still yelling about how werewolves were beasts and should be registered and collared like dogs, but thankfully, the general public is more accepting. Most days.

"It could have been worse," Scott agrees. "Some little places are still wary, though."

"Yes, but the scientific and behavioral articles that appeared so fast to debunk myths like how every were would kill eventually, and shit like that? And those prominent politicians all over the world who called for calm and passed bills protecting were rights within months? Shit went way too easy."

"So you're one of those conspiracy advocates," Isaac says, with a sneer. "We're all biding time, and we'll take over the world."

"What? No!" Stiles protests, scrunching his face before downing one of the shots set on the table next to him. "Well, not you guys. You couldn't take over a paper bag, the lot of you. It's surprising Beacon Hills is still standing," he adds, taking another shot, and slamming it way too hard on the table afterwards.

Allison sighs. "Stiles, I think you've had enough."

Stiles laughs, but it's slightly bitter. "No, no, I'm just getting started. And don't give me the cop frown, I am immune. Speaking of, I guess the Big Werewolf Reveal is probably why you had to leave the family business behind, huh? It's not so hot being a Hunter these days, you meanies."

Derek frowns, because Stiles has always been a loud drunk and he's starting to draw attention to their group from the patrons, with whom they don't interact much apart from silent salutes of the head on Fridays. Allison's mouth is pinched, obviously angry that Stiles is talking too much. Stiles is right, though. It turns out that the Hunters did become the bad guys in the media (not that Derek can fault that assumption with his personal experience with most of that community). 

"Come on, man, let's talk about something else," Scott pleads, obviously tense. 

"But why? It's _fascinating_ ," Stiles says. "Doesn't all of Beacon Hills know what a rag tag of a pack you have? Hunters, banshees, humans, werewolves, oh my!"

The problem is that, no, Beacon Hills doesn't know. Well Derek, Peter, Mindy and Isaac are out and not secretive about what they are, but the rest of the werewolves in Beacon Hills - mostly everywhere in fact - still generally keep the info on a need to know basis. You never know when the next weirdo will pull a Kate Argent, or decide to take his dog to another veterinarian because he's afraid you'll hurt him. 

"Stiles, shut up," Scott says, getting annoyed. 

"Or what, you'll use your mighty True Alpha powers on me?" Stiles says sweetly. "Hey, everyone!" he shouts. "Did you know my man Scott here is like the second coming of Jesus for werewolves? A True Alpha!" he says, using his fingers to do air quotes, tone overly admiring, clearly mocking him for it. It's a shock, because Stiles has been an asshole before, but he's never been this mean. And never to Scott. "The rarest of the rare, the one who rises above all of the other werewolves by sheer power of will and moral fortitude! Alleluia!"

In the nine years that he's known Scott McCall, Derek has never seen him look this furious, and god knows he's been the target of Scott's ire before. Scott's livid, though he has enough control that his eyes don't flash red. He doesn't speak, though, just turns around and stalks out of the bar under everyone's scrutiny. The whispers start before Scott walks out of the door:

_'Did you hear that?'_

_'I knew there was something weird with him when I went to the clinic with my wife's cat!'_

_'There are more who hang out here than the Hales and that black chick?'_

_'The cops hired a Hunter, are they nuts?'_

Derek is angry. They have a good thing, here, finally, and that's because they were going slow to convince the human population that cohabitation can be peaceful and beneficial for all. Now Stiles comes in and bowls everything over like a bull in a china shop.

"Awww, come on, man!" Stiles drawls at Scott's retreating back. "It's a joke! You guys don't remember what jokes are now that I'm gone?"

"You're not funny, at all," Derek says, taking away Stiles' beer when he tries to grab another glass. "Come on, it's enough, I'm taking you home."

"What? No!" Stiles says, but when he tries to go around Derek to get to his glass again he stumbles and almost face-plants on the ground. The sudden movement must upset his stomach because when he inelegantly straightens up, Stiles is getting steadily greener. "Whoa."

"Way enough, come on," Derek grabs Stiles' rental keys from his front pocket and lobs them to Mindy. "You don't mind following?"

"Not a problem," Mindy says, grabbing Stiles' jacket. It's been slow torture to see Stiles lose the tie, the jacket, and then roll his shirt sleeves up as the evening progressed. 

Stiles, whom Derek keeps mostly upright by now, meekly protests at being dragged out of the bar with a mumbled, "Hey, no pawing at my person."

Derek opens the passenger door and helps Stiles sit down.

"Don't barf in my car," Derek orders, not reassured by Stiles' color. 

"Nah," Stiles says, head hanging down.

In the time Derek turns around to take the jacket from Mindy, Stiles of course starts puking everything he drank that night. 

"Jesus Christ," Derek says, looking towards heaven to gather his strength. 

Mindy laughs. "Wow, a real class act, that one."

"Hey, I barfed on the ground, not in the car," Stiles protests as he spits on the pavement. 

Sighing, Derek avoids stepping in the mess – it smells foul – fastens Stiles' seatbelt who is now pliant as a rag doll, and closes his door. After that, it's a short drive to take Stiles to his dad's place, but it's still long enough for Stiles to fall asleep. In the street in front of the house, Derek takes a moment to look his fill, wondering how he can still be overly fond of the guy after everything. He finds a pen in the glove compartment, and even though something is squeezing so hard in his chest it makes it hard to breathe, Derek signs the divorce papers. He initials each page, dutifully puts his name where it's needed and then it's done. 

"Stiles," Derek says when he's got his composure back. 

No answer, he's fast asleep.

"Hey, you're home. Come on, wake up," Derek says a little louder, shaking his shoulder. Still no reaction but a snuffling sound as Stiles repositions himself against the car's door, as if he plans to sleep the night there. 

With a put upon sigh, Derek gets out of the car and gestures to Mindy that he's going to be back in a minute. Since there's no dignified way to do this, Derek resigns himself to carry Stiles to the front door bridal style and then rings the bell. When the Sheriff opens the door, he raises both eyebrows at his son snoring like a lumberjack while passed out in Derek's arms, his mouth wide open and drooling a little. 

"Sheriff," Derek says with a nod, walking in when John steps aside.

"Evening, Derek," he answers with a quirked smile. 

Derek follows Melissa's directions to the guest room and gently lowers Stiles to the bed, who barely mumbles before burrowing in the pillow. Derek had rolled the divorce papers and put them in his back pocket to carry them in too, and he gingerly sets them on the other pillow, signatures apparent.

So that's it, game over. He'd hoped that their story wouldn't end like this, but when did life ever do Derek a favor? He resists the impulse to card his fingers through Stiles' hair one last time, it would be creepy, but he nonetheless squeezes his shoulder lightly. 

"Be well," Derek murmurs before he leaves. 

After all, all he ever wanted was for Stiles to be happy.

When Stiles wakes up, his stomach is rolling, his head is pounding and just opening his eyes a crack proves to be a mistake because everything is too bright (and seems to encourage the marching band practicing in his skull). He's got a horrible taste in his mouth and that, more than anything, makes him wonder if he's going to puke again, his mouth suddenly filling with saliva. Stiles takes deep breaths and, thankfully, the nausea passes, though that doesn't mean he feels better, especially since he now remembers how much of a jerk he was at the bar, to Scott in particular, and it's like he's going to be sick again. He's gone and fucked things up for good, now. He wonders if it's his subconscious that's trying to not only cut ties but burn all bridges too.

After a full five minute of undeserved self-pity, Stiles makes a second try at opening his eyes and the papers on the other pillow catch his attention. His heart is pounding when he looks them over and sees Derek's surprisingly flowery signature everywhere it's needed. He should be grateful, or at least relieved, but mostly he's just suddenly sad. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

The first thing Stiles does after washing up is go to his bank's website to re-transfer all of the money he took back to the joined account. It still baffles him that there's over 75 thousand dollars in it. By what Stiles can see from the activity in the account for the last month, it's mostly money going _out_ in checks. He'd never even logged into that account since he'd left for Boston, has no idea what Derek has been up to, but again… it's none of his business, is it? 

His dad enters the kitchen when Stiles is going though the cupboards, looking for something that could settle his stomach. He has a bottle of Advil in hand and half smiles when Stiles makes pitiful grabby hands at it.

"You forgot that it's not a good idea to drink with werewolves?" he asks.

Stiles swallows three gelcaps dry and nods.

"Among other things," he says, and then goes to get a tall glass of water because one seems to have stuck in his throat. "I think I forgot how to be a good friend. Or at least a decent human being."

His father doesn't pry, he just closes a warm hand on Stiles' neck as he passes near to start some toast. 

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"I've been doing a lot," Stiles says. "I'm sorry," he adds, because he knows his dad was hurt badly by his disappearing act.

"It's fine if you learn from them." 

Stiles hopes he does. Or that at least he has the opportunity to fix things.

"The pack still trains in the Preserve on Saturday mornings," his dad says as he pours them both coffee.

"Really?" Stiles used to cringe at the way Derek would get stiff as a board each time the shell of his childhood home came into view. It's one of the many things they fought about, as he hated how Derek kept rubbing salt in those wounds. "I know it's a good place to keep in shape away from prying eyes, but it's hella depressing."

His dad shakes his head. "It's actually quite beautiful."

Maybe the years made nature overcome the house at last; it's true that some abandoned buildings can turn out pretty cool. The whole tragic factor makes Stiles doubt he'll ever like the place. As he slowly sips his coffee, Stiles comes to the conclusion that he better go there one last time, and apologize to Scott. It's the least he can do.

**

As he takes the last curve towards the Hale House, Stiles automatically braces himself for the view… only to be confused when there's no house anymore. He's at the right place, though, because there are several cars parked at the end of the road, including Derek's. The house has been brought down completely, and in its place are several trees, oaks, by the look of it, a couple of maple trees, and several flowery shrubs. It is indeed beautiful.

When he gets out of the car, Stiles hears Derek's dog barking before he reaches the clearing, coming straight for him. Even if it's an enormous Rottweiler, so much like Ross, he's not threatening at all, tail that hasn't been clipped waggling furiously.

"Hey boy," Stiles says to greet him, crouching down for maximum petting. He laughs when the dog tries to lick his face. "Whoa, wet kisses, ew! Can you bring me to your dad?"

It turns out to be an unnecessary request because Derek is walking towards him. He's got twigs in his hair, one t-shirt sleeve almost torn off, and Stiles can't help but smile. T-shirts have a very low life expectancy with Derek Hale. 

"I though you'd be gone," he says, and Red leaves Stiles to chase a squirrel up a tree nearby.

"I put the money back in your account," Stiles says as he straightens up. 

Derek smiles. "Thanks, it saves me from bouncing lots of checks." Immediately after, his expression closes up. "Look, Stiles, I signed your papers."

Stiles knows this must be hard as hell on Derek. Everything that has to do with feelings, and in particular those that deal with his abandonment issues has always been what hit Derek the hardest. Stiles feels the need to apologize for adding even more heartache to the pile.

"Derek, I never meant to hurt you, or anybody else, for that matter. And I just came out here to say... thank you. Also, I want to apologize for last night."

Derek briefly looks at him but he doesn't hold eye contact, choosing to stare at the ground. "I know… I didn't-" he starts, but the words just don't come. Stiles wishes they'd worked on that more, talking to each other. They probably would be in a very different place now, because when he left it wasn't because he didn't love Derek anymore, quite the contrary. It was an all-encompassing passion that snuffed everything else. Unhealthy, for the both of them.

Eventually, Derek sighs and looks into the woods towards where he came from earlier. "For last night, Scott's over there."

"Do you think he wants to see me?" Stiles asks, queasy again. The more he thinks about what he said, and how he did it, the more ashamed he feels.

Derek scoffs. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't. Being suddenly outed as a werewolf is a lot more complicated than you seem to think it is."

Stiles feels the bottom of his stomach drop. "What do you mean outed as a werewolf? He's the Alpha, surely-"

"No one knew but the pack, and people we had to deal with over the years. Cora, Peter and I, they know. Isaac and Mindy too. Not the others from the pack. There are other wolves in Beacon Hills, some known, some not; they live here with Scott's approval. It might not seem like it in the media, but real life folks aren't so accepting. Some towns actively discourage weres to live in their limits," Derek says. 

"Shit," Stiles says, raking his fingers through his hair. It's not an excuse, but he thought that all of the pack was public; he never imagined it could still be a secret. It makes what he said exponentially worse.

"Hey, you know Scott, he's going to get out of this stronger. He can't hold a grudge to save his life, so just grovel a little," Derek says, with a kindness Stiles doesn't deserve.

"I plan to," Stiles says, and after talking his iPad from the car, he follows on Derek’s heels when they walk towards the training session. They're soon passed by an over excited Red, who takes the lead. 

They stop when they get near the creek, a playground the pack has always loved because of the rocky outcrops and the mature trees they can climb. Stiles is certain that everyone has taken notice of his arrival, but they don't stop what they're doing, which seems to be attacking Scott in turn, either alone, or by twos or threes. Scott is shirtless which reveals several tattoos he didn't use to have, including a full sleeve and a shoulder completely covered by something Stiles can't see clearly. Stiles shudders at the idea of the whole surface being torched for the tattoo to stick, it must have been terrible. 

It's been so long that Stiles had almost forgotten how terribly beautiful those fights can be, perfect bodies twisting and slashing. It's like an incredibly graceful and deadly ballet, though since it's training there's a minimum of maiming. From what he can see, they've gotten better at it, the attacks on Scott alternating between clashes of pure force (the twins, Stiles isn't surprised) and more finesse. He doesn't remember what the newish pack members' names are, but they're quick and cunning, and the guy keeps laughing when Scott kicks his ass. Beside him, Derek is all but vibrating, shifted and ready to join.

"Go!" Stiles says with a gesture, and he smiles at the way Derek goes straight in, getting swiftly tossed aside for his trouble. 

Once he rolls back to his feet, his date of the previous night makes him wait to go back, talking in his ear. The girl is lithe and gorgeous, even as a wolf, and something in Stiles bristles at the way she easily restrains Derek with a touch, something he rarely managed to do. He has absolutely no right to feel this way, heck, he's the one who left and insisted on a divorce, but seeing Derek lean into her makes something ugly twist in his gut. Mindy's the one who gives the signal as they go for Scott together, and she proves enough of a challenge that Derek somehow manages to immobilize Scott from behind. Even if he has the advantage of Alpha strength, Scott's tired which is the only reason Derek can hold him. 

When it seems the hold will be successful, Isaac starts counting out loud, and at four the others gleefully join as Scott gives a last try to shake Derek before the count is up. At ten there's a general cheer, Derek being congratulated by all. Scott seems just as happy as the others, if not more, pulling Derek close in a huge hug, only letting go after holding Derek's head between his hands and touching foreheads as they grin at each other. 

"What is he doing here?" Isaac asks with a disgusted frown, finally acknowledging Stiles presence. 

The good mood sours instantly.

"I want to sincerely apologize about my behavior last night," Stiles says. He hopes everyone can hear how true that is. Especially Scott.

"You're a fucking jerk," Isaac spits out.

Stiles snort-laughs. "Well, duh. What else is new?"

Isaac makes a 'fair enough' face and Scott almost smiles. Stiles puts his iPad down against a tree and looks around until he finds a branch that's almost the same length as his jō. It's not properly balanced or dense enough, but after a couple of experimental slashes in the air Stiles figures it could do.

"What exactly are you hoping to do with that branch, Stilinski?" Aiden asks.

"Why don't you come here and find out?" Stiles replies with a grin and a raised eyebrow. 

It's obvious that Aiden doesn't take him seriously, but he does come over, to Stiles' delight. He'd grown a bit fonder of Ethan when the twins refused to leave Scott, but it never passed civil with Aiden. 

"Don't hurt him," Scott says, because he's a good person like that.

"I'll be careful," both Aiden and Stiles say at the same time, which makes the new guy snigger.

"You've always been a little shit," Aiden tells Stiles as he gets in fighting position. "It's going to be a pleasure to make you eat your words."

"And you've always been way too full of yourself," Stiles replies. 

Unsurprisingly, Aiden rapidly attacks and it's relatively easy to avoid him and hit him behind the knees with the branch, which makes him fall. The guy turns instantly red, ashamed, and this time when he leaps towards Stiles he's pissed _and_ shifted. Over the last five years, Stiles has spent most of his free time at the dojo, rapidly soaking up Aikido. It's the perfect technique to use against wolves, since the goal is to redirect the force of the attacker rather than opposing it. It's all about concentration and timing, and quickly enough he's got Aiden in a painful arm lock. 

"Aren't you full of surprises," Cora says, smirking. She never liked the twins either. 

"Do you think you can do better?" Stiles challenges, releasing Aiden and getting up.

"Don’t mind if I try!" she says, running towards him.

Stiles lets his training speak from then on, first sparring with Cora, then Isaac. He doesn't succeed in taking them down every time, but it's decent when you consider he's still just a squishy human fighting werewolves. To his surprise, Derek rushes him, too, and for several minutes they circle and fight. For the first time since he came back, Derek is mostly relaxed and smiling, which fucks with Stiles' inner balance. When Stiles' heart starts speeding up at them being in such close physical contact – damn, he didn't need the reminder of how perfect Derek's body is – Derek gets the hint and calls it a draw and Stiles fights with Allison instead. 

All in all, Stiles and Allison are the more evenly matched in this unplanned sparring session, both trying to use similar techniques; it ends up in tickling, somehow. Scott's next, and he proves to be the fastest and least predictable of the wolves. They grapple for a while before Scott immobilizes him.

"You win, you win," Stiles wheezes out. "I'm sorry," he adds, quieter.

"I know you are," Scott says with a small smile. "Enough?"

"Yeah," Stiles says, and Scott helps him get up. "This was fun!"

"It was pretty great! You're really good with that stick," Scott says. 

"I have a sword, too, it's traditional for Aikido" Stiles says and Scott laughs. "Yeah, the irony hasn't escaped me either. About yesterday, I'm very, truly sorry. Are people really giving werewolves attitude here?"

Scott shrugs. "Not to our face, not really. But sometimes people call the radio. Also there are big reminders in the local papers when it's the full moon and suddenly there's no one in the streets at night." 

"A gang of morons tried to pick a fight with me once," Isaac says. "Thankfully, they only had knives and they ran away at the first show of fangs after I healed the cut on my arm and kept walking towards them."

"What?" Stiles says, horrified. "Jesus, I had no idea."

"It's just a small fraction of people, really," Allison says. "The good press helps, and as the werewolves organize and participate in the community, the fear of the unknown slowly lessens."

"True, true. In Boston, I heard that some werewolves go in hospitals and help patients with chronic pain, stuff like that. There are a lot of possibilities to make the world better, to make everyone understand that most werewolves are awesome and assets to society. I saw in the local paper at my dad's that there's even a youth center for werewolves, that's pretty great."

"Ha!" Isaac says, but when Stiles looks over Derek is having an eyebrow conversation with Isaac, who rolls his eyes. "What? I'm just saying it would have been helpful in our sophomore year."

No one can argue with that one, and Stiles takes Scott aside.

"Can I show you something?" he asks, walking back to the tree where he left his iPad. 

Stiles had a journalism class in his last year of undergrad and there's an article he wrote for it but had never shown to anyone. It's Scott's story, from bitten to True Alpha, then how he became the leader of the weirdest pack to ever form. Stiles poured everything in the article, including his admiration and love for his best friend, and once finished it felt too personal to share. Scott does him the favor of reading it, and Stiles can only wait with bated breath until he's done. 

"Wow," Scott says at last, and when he looks up at Stiles he's got tears in his eyes.

"What happened to us?" Stiles asks.

"Derek isn't the only one that you ran out on," Scott says.

"I know. Fuck, I know. I'm so sorry for that, I was such a mess and it was easier to just… leave everything behind, even you, and you didn't deserve that at all. I'm also sorry that I outed you," Stiles says. "I guess I figured that if I was pointing at you, then nobody would see through me."

Scott sighs, then looks at the others who are still horsing around. 

"You know, he went to Boston," Scott says.

"Derek?" Stiles asks, astonished. "When?"

"A couple of months after you left. He told Isaac how you seemed happy, at last. He realized straight off that he'd need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world, first. He's been trying ever since."

That knocks the breath right out of Stiles' lungs. Jeez. He's always resented Derek for just letting him go, not fighting to get him back. Maybe he's misjudged everything. "That's why he kept sending the papers back."

Scott nods. "He's worked a lot to get better. Started seeing someone."

"A girl?" Stiles asks, looking at Mindy. He supposes that trying new relationships must have helped Derek feel worthy of love.

"No, not like that. A professional," Scott says, looking proud.

"A hooker?" Stiles asks. 

That earns him a slap to the back of the head. "Are you being purposely stupid? No, a therapist. Hell, he even took yoga classes."

The whole concept is hard for Stiles to grasp. Derek, actively working on his issues? Really?

"Frankly, it's hard to believe," Stiles says, because he tried _so hard_ to convince Derek that he needed help.

"Yeah. It's funny how things don't work out," Scott says, and the way he looks between Stiles and Derek makes it clear he's referring to their relationship. 

Stiles looks at how the pack is having fun training, how they clearly look up to Scott now. How they managed to find peace, somehow.

"It's funny how they do," Stiles says, grasping Scott's arms, who beams at him.

Derek was on edge when Stiles joined them for the training session, but somehow the fighting and the very contrite way he's been acting towards Scott managed to make things better. Even after everything, Derek is drawn to Stiles like a moth to a flame. He knows he should leave well enough alone. After all, the papers are signed which means they are truly done and over, but he still feels a link between them. Derek's afraid it will always be there, and that he'll never truly get his heart back. Earlier, seeing Stiles fight so competently was a total turn on, and he couldn't resist challenging him, too. Obviously, Stiles wasn't unmoved either, Derek could smell it, but there lay madness so he backed off.

It's almost noon and Scott announces the training done for the week, sending them all to their cars. He's walking with Stiles, shoulder bumping as they talk about the last wave of Marvel movies. Scott seems to have completely forgiven Stiles for his outburst and Derek can only admire him for it. Some might take such a rapid change of heart for weakness, but it takes a lot of strength. 

Derek expects Stiles to get in his car and leave forever, but he detours towards the trees that Derek has planted to represent his family. The oaks are for the werewolves and the maples for the humans, and it's a comfort to see them grow so well. Stiles stops at the marker Derek put for Ross, that includes the ridiculous studded leather collar Stiles had bought for him. It's right next to where Derek had buried Laura all of those years ago. He overhears Stiles talking.

"Hi, there, boy. Sorry it took me so long. I would have come sooner if I'd known you were sick," Stiles says. "Actually, that's probably not true. I've been pretty selfish lately. Dogs don't know anything about that, do they, though? You were always like a big old pillow. Like when everything went pear-shaped... you never left my side. And then I just left you," Stiles voice cracks at that, and Derek can't help walking closer. The rest of the pack is gone by now. "I bet you sat there wondering what you'd done wrong."

Derek, chimes in. "I told him it was my fault."

Stiles swivels around and wipes tears from his cheeks with the back of his hands. "Quit being so nice."

"It's the truth," Derek says with a shrug.

"How come it has to be so complicated?" Stiles asks.

"What?"

"Truth. Life. This," Stiles says, gesturing between the both of them.

"He was one hell of a good dog, wasn't he?" Derek asks with a smile. It's like Ross understood everything. Red's not bad, but he's still young. Derek hopes he'll mature like Ross, and by habit he keeps an ear on him while he's on a squirrel hunt nearby.

"Yeah," Stiles says, turning to look at Ross' grave. 

"You looked like you were having fun earlier," Derek says.

"I'm happy in Boston, Derek," Stiles says. It's true and it hurts, even though Derek honestly hoped Stiles had a good life up there. Stiles then continues. "But then I come back here and... this fits, too."

"Since when does it have to be one or the other?" Derek asks. "You can have roots and wings, Stiles."

Stiles smirks. "Maybe I could just fly south for the winter."

Derek hadn't realized he was moving but he's now side by side with Stiles, and he bumps his shoulder amicably. "You could, you know. It's a lot calmer now, thank god. We're not running for our lives as much."

"Good. You're not getting any younger," Stiles says and Derek pushes him away playfully. Stiles laughs. "Hey! I still dream about some of that stuff."

Fair enough. Earlier, when Stiles drove up and apologized, Derek was unable to get the words out. He feels like he can do it, now. 

"Do you ever wonder how we'd have turned out if we'd met in ordinary lives? One that hadn't made me so distrustful and –"

Stiles looks pained as he interrupts. "Derek..."

He needs to say this. If he doesn't do it now, it's going to burden him for the rest of his life, he knows it. Heck, Derek still thinks about what he never had the chance to tell his family and Laura.

"Just... let me get this out before I can't," Derek says, and Stiles shuts up. "I thought that you'd be the one to save me. And it took me a while to realize that I had to save myself."

Stiles has tears in his eyes.

"I was so ashamed, once I'd left, because I felt... relieved," Stiles confesses back. "No more running for my life every other week, no more having to hold my friend's insides while they healed, all of that crap. I loved you, god knows I loved you with all of my being, but you kept almost dying and pushing me away, not talking about what you felt. And before you try to say it, it wasn't all you, I wasn't much better. All of a sudden, I just... I needed a different life."

It hurts, so much, but it's a good hurt to finally hear this. Derek smiles softly and takes Stiles' hand in his. 

"You've done real well for yourself. I'm proud of you, Stiles. I'm just sorry I never danced with you at our wedding." Stiles laughs, then thumbs tears away from his eyes again. Derek forces himself to continue, even though it kills him a little. "I'm sure this next marriage is going to be better for you."

Stiles' heart has sped up and they are close, so close. "Derek, I can't do this."

"I know."

Derek feels the overwhelming urge to kiss Stiles, and he can clearly feel that his feelings are returned, to a point. But how fair would that be, even though their passion is simmering right out of reach? Stiles is promised to someone else, now, so Derek pushes him away. It's the hardest thing he's ever done.

"Go home, Stiles."

**

Just as Derek arrives at Melissa's to get the package she promised him, a white rental parks in front of the house. A beautiful young woman gets out, checking her phone and the house in turn. When she sees him walking towards the driveway, she smiles and points at the house.

"Is this Sheriff Stilinski's house?" she asks, tucking long blond hair behind an ear. 

As soon as he catches her scent, Derek recognizes it to be the one that was all over Stiles when he got in town. She's the girlfriend, then, and Derek can't help the stab of jealousy. 

"It is," Derek says. 

"Oh, good!" she says with a grin. They've walked to the door and Scott, who heard them approach, opens it before she knocks.

"Hi," he says, then tilts his head at the girl. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, I was hoping to surprise Stiles," she says with a smile. "I'm Kelly, his fiancée."

Scott's face splits into a huge grin. "Oh, right! Hi, I'm Scott!"

"Scott?" she replies, and it's obvious that she never heard of him, which makes Scott's face fall.

"Stiles' dad and my mom are together," he explains. 

"Oh, family! It's so great to meet you!" she says, genuinely excited. 

"I see that you already met Derek?" Scott adds.

"Hi Derek," she says to him. She's cute as a button, it's almost too much. "Are you also Stiles' step brother?"

Stunned, Derek can only snort-laugh. It looks like Stiles never talked about him either.

"No, not at all. I'm Scott's friend," he adds, because he doesn't know what he is to Stiles anymore. "Stiles is at Deaton's. I'll give you a ride there."

"Are you sure?" Scott asks, and Derek shrugs. Why the hell not, that girl fell in love with Stiles, he can't resent her for that.

"That's great, thank you," Kelly says. "It was nice meeting you," she tells Scott.

Derek takes his package and leads Kelly to the car. While he drives to the clinic he belatedly realizes she'll try to engage him in small talk. 

"Stiles never talks about this place," Kelly says. "It's like pulling teeth."

"That's a change, we could never get him to shut up," Derek replies.

She laughs, but for Derek it's not funny at all. Stiles told her absolutely nothing? Thankfully, the ride isn't very long because he has nothing to say to this girl. When they get to the clinic, she frowns at being taken to an animal hospital but follows Derek towards the back room. He stops her when he hears ritual mumbling.

"We better wait until they're done," he says.

"What's going on in there?" Kelly asks.

"They're probably making some charms. I bet Deaton jumped on the opportunity to have extra help."

"Charms?" Kelly asks, obviously confused. "As in magic?"

"Yes?" 

"And you can hear what they're saying?" she presses on, blinking rapidly.

"Yes?" It's not like the room is sound proof, though now that Derek thinks of it, maybe it should be. 

Kelly's mouth forms a perfect little 'o' in surprise. "You're a werewolf! Stiles knows werewolves?"

The way she exclaims like it's shocking news is a slap to the face and suddenly Derek can't take it anymore. He knows it's irrational but he sees red, he's so angry, and he can't stop himself from pushing the door open, interrupting Stiles and Deaton.

"What the hell Derek?" Stiles says, looking up rapidly but then back to the table. "We're busy here, come back later."

But Derek won't be dismissed like that. He's way too furious at Stiles right now. "You give us a 'the whole world is changing' speech, about how werewolves can be examples to society and all of that shit, and you've never told your fiancée that you're part of a pack? That you do magic?"

Derek steps aside, which allows Stiles to see Kelly in the doorframe. There's obvious panic on Stiles' face, scent turning worried.

"That was a long time ago," Stiles protests. "I'm not –"

"A pack?" Kelly interrupts. She looks at Derek, a bit wary, maybe even afraid. "Are you the Alpha?"

Derek laughs. She's completely clueless and he can't take much more of this. "No. Scott is. I'm going, I've heard enough. I had no idea Stiles was so ashamed of us. You and I are in love with two different people," he tells her, before stalking out.

He can still hear the conversation in the backroom as he goes to his car. 

"What the hell?" Kelly asks.

"He's my husband," Stiles says.

"Your what?" she asks, tone rising.

"I mean, my ex-husband."

"You married a werewolf?"

"No, I came down here to finalize my divorce," Stiles replies.

And Derek has definitely heard enough. He's out of here.

This is a disaster.

Kelly is shaken and hurt, something Stiles never wanted. That's why he came to Beacon Hills alone. He was supposed to straighten everything up and _then_ tell her.

"You are married!" she exclaims again. 

"On paper only," Stiles argues feebly. "I haven't seen Derek for six years, not since I moved to Boston."

"Why didn't I know that? Married, to a man!"

Stiles admits it's huge. "I told you my serious relationship to a guy ended badly!"

"But married?" She insists, and then picks up more steam. "And all of those times when I talked about werewolves and the supernatural, and how I wished I knew more about them, their way of seeing things, the importance of pack, you never thought to mention how you knew from experience?" she asks, flushed with anger.

He'd bitten his tongue more than once when his friends discussed werewolves, that's true. So many times he almost cracked and told them the truth about their stupid theories. 

"Look," Stiles says, willing Kelly to hear reason. "It may be more accepted now, but at first I didn't want to put them in danger."

"From me?" Kelly asks, disbelieving. 

"No, no, in general. Who knows when Hunters might be listening in!" Stiles had been paranoid about it. "After a while, I didn't know how to tell because I'd kept it a secret for so long."

"I thought I knew you!" Kelly says, deflating. 

"You do!" Stiles assures her. "I left this behind a long time ago. It's not who I am anymore."

Maybe, if Stiles keeps repeating it, it's going to sound true to his own ears.

"Yeah, right," Kelly says, giving a sarcastic look at how Stiles is hands deep in mountain ash. She then turns and leaves.

"Kelly!"

"Let her go," Deaton says, calm as always. "It's a lot to process, give her time." 

**

Stiles is at the house, cooking dinner with Melissa while Dad is keeping them company and having a drink. He keeps being a nuisance, stealing bits of pepper and making Melissa laugh. They look very happy together, which is a comfort, but Stiles is sad he missed so much. Missed them period. 

It's surreal to be in such a cozy family setting while his life just splintered apart. He supposes that Kelly took the first flight back East and Stiles has no idea if they can fix their relationship. It's their first big fight and she looked so betrayed. Can they come back from this? Will he return to Boston and be all alone again? Also, Stiles tortures himself that he made Derek feel so bad, like he was Stiles' dirty secret. Why does he always hurt everyone he loves? 

They hear the door open and Scott walks in the kitchen, Kelly in tow by the hand.

"Hey, look who I found walking down Main Street," he says.

"Hi," Kelly says, blushing and throwing little sheepish looks at Stiles.

He feels hope surge that maybe he didn't ruin everything.

"Hi. I thought you'd be halfway to Boston by now."

"So did I," Kelly says. 

There's tension in the air, and hoping to disperse it, Stiles proceeds with introductions.

"Kelly, this is my pops, he's the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and a great one at that." Stiles gestures to Melissa next. "This is Melissa, Scott's mom, nurse extraordinaire and, in more ways than one, my second mom. And I see you've met Scott, who by the way was my very best friend in the world for so long." 

Scott smiles so big. "Still is, bro," he says and Stiles' doesn't know how he can be so lucky when he's been such a jerk.

"Well, it's a pleasure meeting you all. I'm Kelly, Stiles' fiancée. Well, that is, if he'll still have me," she says. "Look, Stiles, I really don't care what happened down here. So... you have a past. I mean, who doesn't? What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future."

Again, Stiles has no idea how he manages to find people ready to gloss over his mistakes. Kelly is an extraordinary girl, there is not a mean bone in her whole body.

"Oh, that is the sweetest thing," Melissa says. She then pushes Stiles towards Kelly. "Well, go on."

Stiles goes to her and they hug tenderly. She's been his rock for so long, first as a friend and then more, and he's so relieved that he hasn't lost her, too.

"I guess we're going to Boston!" his dad says.

"Yes, I suppose we can take off work if we know enough in advance," Melissa is saying.

An idea crosses Stiles mind, one he wouldn't even have considered three days ago. 

"Kelly, I, um, actually, I was thinking… maybe we could have the wedding here?" he asks.

"Here?" Kelly asks.

"Yes, in my hometown. With my p-" he stops himself, rephrases. "With my friends."

She grins widely. "A California wedding? Why the hell not. I don't have much family, but I really want our friends there. Sheriff, if you could take care of the rehearsal dinner, I'd really like to take care of the rest."

His dad nods. "Well, we can cover that for sure. How many times does your only son get married?" He makes a face when he realizes what he's said, then adds. "Other than before."

Stiles laughs and hugs Kelly again. He's really happy that things worked out. The strange feeling in his gut is just because he's still shaken by everything that happened over the weekend, right? Kelly is a great girl. They'll be fine.

Stiles is gone now, back to his life in Boston, the one he chose for himself. It shouldn't hurt Derek so much. After all, he lost Stiles a long time ago.

The year and a half when they were together brought Derek both the happiest and some of the worse moments of his life. Getting involved with Stiles was not something Derek had considered until Stiles began pursuing him. They were allies, yes, had a mutual life saving gig going on, and they were slowly becoming friends when Stiles started unabashedly flirting with him. With all of the shit that had happened to him, including Jennifer just months before, Derek balked. Stiles was only seventeen years old at the time, a high school student, for crying out loud. But he was also funny, smart as a whip, and yes, unfairly attractive. Derek chose to react to the flirting like it was a joke, but that didn't stop Stiles, if anything it made him bolder. 

It was a kick in the gut to realize Derek wanted it, too. Out of nowhere, Derek started to imagine how nice it would be to have someone to come home to, to share things with. From there he was doomed because Stiles, astute as ever, realized he'd cracked the wall. Not once did Derek make a move to push things further. It was Stiles who initiated their first kiss and the moment they started touching each other. After weeks of slow torture, Stiles was the one who brought them to sex, too. That's not to say that Derek was an unwilling participant, far from it, he was basically touch-starved and always enthusiastically reciprocated. But he'd waited on Stiles for everything. It worked for him, but it took a long time to realize it didn't work for Stiles so much, that it was another thing Stiles resented him for. It was only years later, in therapy, that Derek admitted to himself that he'd acted that way because he didn't want to be like Kate.

They argued and butted heads all the time and getting into a relationship made things even more volatile. Stiles always yelled when Derek risked his life to protect him, or, to a lesser degree, when Derek chose to sacrifice himself to give the others a chance to win a fight. Derek kept failing to explain why it was impossible for him to do any different; he just _had_ to do it, why couldn't Stiles understand that? More often than not Derek would clam up at the accusation, which brought even more yelling. They also fought about the stupidest things, stopped talking to each other for days at a time, only to end up having spectacular make-up sex. Stiles would then say he loved him, but it sounded more like a curse than an endearment. Like it hurt.

The depth and intensity of the feelings Derek had for Stiles was terrifying. Once, when Derek had been near death, Stiles confessed how it was the same for him, that he loved Derek so much it sucked every ounce of oxygen until there wasn't room for anything else. The happy days, like the first months of their marriage, were the biggest high Derek had ever ridden. They fit so well, he almost believed they'd be indestructible. But more and more often there were fights where Stiles used sharp words to slash right through Derek, and that hurt like nothing else. He'd sneer about how Derek didn't share enough, didn't trust enough, which had Derek building up more defensive walls, feeding a vicious circle that he had no idea how to escape. Stiles stopped laughing and was annoyed by everything, leading Derek to act like a passive-aggressive asshole just to be contrary. Derek lived in constant fear of driving Stiles away, and in the end he succeeded. 

Ironically, Derek lost Stiles for good following an incident where he'd done all that he could so Stiles remained as safe as possible. They'd been kidnapped by the villain of the month – Beacon Hills was a fucking mess in those days – and they were held in a dank basement. Stiles was bound and gagged, while the hunter took sick pleasure in torturing Derek with electricity while he was tied up (same old same old, really). The guy said their marriage was an abomination because Derek was an animal, a dog that had to be put down. Derek could take the pain, as excruciating as it was, so it was a no brainer for him to agree to everything the psycho said to distract him from hurting Stiles. Derek started babbling about how he got it, that he didn't deserve to be loved. Stiles was screaming and fighting in his restraints while Derek took the punishment. 

Scott came through in the end, as he always did, but by then Derek was barely conscious. He'd come to with his head cradled on Stiles' lap, who was carding fingers in his hair. Usually, that's where Derek would get chastised at for being a martyr, but that time Stiles was quiet. 

"I can't do this anymore," he'd said, voice hoarse.

As usual Derek hadn't known what to say. But Stiles had packed his bags that night, and left for Boston the next morning. 

It made sense: Stiles could visit his cousin, get some distance, give himself time to cool off, to get his bearings back. After all, Stiles had always returned before. So Derek waited for him, for a phone call, an email, something. But the silence stretched, for days and then weeks. Derek felt as if he had a lead weight in his gut, and went through the motions of his life like a robot. Stiles would come back when he was ready, Derek kept telling himself, then he'd apologize and make it up to him. 

Then Scott barged in one day, so angry he'd started yelling as soon as he'd spotted Derek sacked on the couch (he couldn't sleep in their bed without Stiles, no matter how much Cora gave him grief about it… in fact, Cora had given up on talking sense into him weeks ago).

"Are you happy? Huh? He's gone for good, you son of a bitch!"

"It's just a rough patch, he's at Denny's-"

Scott had sneered. "He transferred to Emerson College, he even got an apartment with a roommate. He's not coming back, Derek! And do you know how I found out about it? At dinner with mom and the Sheriff. His dad told me, because Stiles isn't taking my calls. Hasn't for weeks."

Stiles hadn't been talking to _Scott_ , and that was what drove home how fucked up the situation really was. Derek immediately jumped in an overdue shower, while Scott ranted and told him how everything was his fault – oh, he knew that – then hurried to see the Sheriff. He expected the man to be just as angry as Scott, but his face fell when he saw Derek, drawing him into a hug. After two months of feeling encased in ice, Derek broke, sobbing in the man's way too kind embrace. The Sheriff had given Derek Stiles' new address, but warned him that Stiles had made up his mind.

Derek flew to Boston the very same night, determined to convince Stiles to patch things up. There was no one at the apartment, but he'd followed Stiles' scent two streets away to a little bar. Seeing Stiles, sitting at a table in the back with three guys and a girl he seemed friendly with, was like a jolt to Derek. Stiles was the only splash of color in Derek's now uniformly grey existence. Just as Derek was gathering his courage to walk up to him, Stiles, who'd been mostly subdued, sniggered at a lame joke and it hit Derek how he hadn't seen his husband happy in months. He was smiling, now, his whole posture relaxed. 

Derek had an epiphany, right there and then in a little bar in Boston, watching the love of his life being happier away from him than he was at home. Derek would never be able to give Stiles anything worthwhile if he didn't screw his head on straight first. He was perfectly conscious that the shit he'd been through would give anyone issues, but he had no excuse for not working on them. So he'd done an about face and got out of the bar, and went straight back to the airport and Beacon Hills. The day after that, he'd pushed aside his pride and went to Melissa, asking for her help. 

Frankly, the whole process – therapists, meditation, support groups even – had been extremely painful and often disheartening. He wanted to get better _right now_ , but that's not how it worked. He had to trust strangers, and some days he felt as if he was even worst off than when he'd started. A small consolation was that he managed to bring Cora along for some of it.

Unexpectedly, the pack slowly rallied around him. The first two months after Stiles left, Derek had been basically a hermit, refusing to see anyone unless it was a crisis where his help was needed. Then, after his trip to Boston, Isaac started coming around to watch a game, or to force him out to the movies. Melissa brought him food, and the Sheriff stopped by the auto-shop to see how he was doing. Allison and Chris, of all people, were patient and kind to him. They knew about loss, he figured. Even Scott eventually forgave him for driving Stiles away. Derek had always thought that Stiles was essential to the pack, but in his absence the bonds cemented.

When Derek felt more solid, which took a long time, he calmly evaluated his life and wondered what to do next. He still nursed the dream that one day he'd go to Boston, and try to woo Stiles back. But what could he offer Stiles, who was now well into a marketing degree? Having worked on his trust issues, anger management, self-esteem and communication techniques wasn't enough. He needed to prove himself first. 

By then, the existence of werewolves had been made public, and in the early days there was a lot of misinformation and unfounded fears. Derek figured that he could try to help others, now that he was better, or at least make the help accessible to the ones who needed it the most. Derek thought long and hard about it, and he decided that even though he'd been a terrible Alpha, he had truly wanted to help Boyd, Erica and Isaac at the time. Heck, after finding Laura, he'd stayed in Beacon Hills only because he felt that Scott needed support to learn how to deal with being a werewolf. There were surely other kids out there that needed help, and that's how the Werewolf Youth Center came to be. 

The Center is a non-profit, and keeping it going is a lot of hard work. Thankfully, they received anonymous donations that helped a whole lot and Derek lucked out with the staff he recruited - they were all very dedicated to the cause. The need is there, as much for kids who moved into town after Scott made it very clear over the years that Beacon Hills is were-friendly, but also for their parents and relatives. Sometimes established packs from as far as Georgia call them for advice, or send a teen over if they are particularly affected by the full moons.

About three years after Stiles left, just as the Center was starting up, Derek received the divorce papers for the very first time. He'd had no advance warning, from the Sheriff or otherwise; Derek just found an inconspicuous legal envelope in his home mailbox one day. It was unexpected, and it felt like a slap across the face, especially since there was only a dry letter in lawyer-speak asking for his signature with no note or word from Stiles at all. If he wanted out officially, because of course after this long Derek didn't kid himself that Stiles would come back on his own, Stiles could have had the decency to tell him to his face.

Derek considered flying out to Boston, to discuss this like adults so either they got some closure in person or see if there was a way for them reestablish contact. Ideally, and Derek felt like a fool for daydreaming about it sometimes, they'd take the time to get to know each other again, where he could show Stiles how he'd straightened out his life, at last. But the Center took so much of his time that traveling was difficult, and Derek didn't feel ready to confront Stiles about a divorce. He sent the papers back, blank, with no note of his own. Derek wondered if he'd get a reaction, but it never came. Until the papers did come back, a year later, and Derek returned them again. In the last three years, those papers had traveled quite a bit. 

Scott told Derek that Stiles had made up with his fiancé before leaving for Boston again, and that the wedding would be in Beacon Hills on a date to be determined. So that's it. Game over. Stiles is gone, for good this time. Derek has to stop the delusions, the maybes and the what-ifs and get on with his life. That's why he doesn't call back when Stiles leaves a message on his voice mail. 

"I think we might need to talk, call me. 617-555-0345" 

It's ironic that after all this time, when Stiles finally reaches out Derek shies away from it. A clean break will make everything easier, and Derek definitely doesn't need more heartbreak. Now that Stiles has mended things with the Sheriff and Scott, he might be in town more often, but Derek will deal with that particular brand of torture when and if it happens.

Derek is conscious that the pack is walking on eggshells around him, which annoys him to no end. He also hates that for one second that Saturday morning, he and Stiles had been so clearly drawn to each other, bringing back everything to the forefront, only for it to be snatched away again. 

Many times in the following weeks Stiles' number illuminates Derek's screen, and every time he denies the call. Stiles doesn't leave any more messages. 

From his window seat Stiles looks down at Beacon Hills as the flight attendant reminds his neighbor that electronic devices must be turned off until the plane has landed. Three months ago he was too keyed up at the prospect of seeing Derek again to notice the changes in the city, including new residential areas that frame more of the Preserve. It’s a beautiful place and Stiles is honest enough to admit he’s missed it, and missed the people in his life even more. It’s been great to reconnect with Scott and have more contact with his Dad and Melissa. 

That’s it, Stiles thinks, he’s coming home for the second time in six years, but instead of getting a divorce out of it, he’s going to marry Kelly. She had to take care of last minute fixes on her dress, but she’ll fly into town in the early evening with her best friend and maid of honor Patricia – who has never liked Stiles, for some reason (it's mutual). The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, and in two days, Stiles will get hitched again. Just thinking about it makes him jittery, which he supposes is normal considering how his previous experience turned sour. Everyone gets a little voice in their head that insists it’s maybe not the best decision, right? An even more annoying voice protests that Stiles hadn’t had any doubts before marrying Derek, but he forcefully shuts it up. He was way too young, then, of course he didn’t realize it was a mistake. 

Stiles refused a stag night. The last one with Scott, Allison, Lydia and Danny at the Jungle was a fun drunken mess at first, but it ended up in a panic because Derek, who was out with Isaac, Cora, and Chris Argent, had had an unexpected encounter with a mandurugo – attractive girl by day, freaky blood-sucker by night, it's a thing - and had been gutted (again). The day after Derek had stoically stood at the altar as they made their vows, swaying in pain, and hadn't even been able to attend the reception, healing in their room at the Bed and Breakfast.

Over the last three months Stiles has thought a lot about how Derek, the last time they saw each other at the clinic, accused him of being ashamed of knowing werewolves (false!), and being a hypocrite (probably true) and it bother him. There are a lot of idealists like Kelly who romanticize the supernatural, but the majority of the population is ambivalent. Publicizing good deeds could only help werewolves' acceptance, and since marketing is Stiles’ domain, that’s a way he could contribute. There’s a short blurb in the in-flight magazine about that Werewolf Youth Center that he'd seen advertised at his dad's house. Maybe he can offer them his services, and help make the world better too.

Once he’s claimed his luggage – damn tux, so cumbersome – and is sitting in the cab on the way to his dad's house, Stiles googles the Center, and confirms that's it's indeed in Beacon Hills (he had deduced that much from the area code and the first three digits of the phone number). On impulse, he gives the taxi the address from the nice but plain website – he could help with that! - and they're heading there when Stiles clicks on the 'A word from our President’ tab.

When the page loads, he's completely shocked to be greeted by a picture of Derek. A very good picture of Derek.

“Oh my fucking god!” Stiles breathes out. In a daze, he reads on.

> There's a reason most people, when asked, would never want to re-live their teens. If, for one reason or the other, you don't fit the mold, or make one mistake, it can be a miserable time. Now try to imagine being a teenager with senses upped to 11, especially on the full moon? Believe me, it's not easy.
> 
> I've learned the hard way, and a little late, that there is no shame in asking for help. This center exists because I felt that it might be only fair that others benefit from my experience. We aim to provide a safe haven for teen werewolves, whenever needed. Our dedicated staff is ready to offer classes, advice, a sympathetic ear, or even just a place to hang out.
> 
> Come and see us, we don't bite...
> 
> Derek Hale  
>  President  
> 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Stiles keeps saying, mind reeling. So that’s what Derek has been doing all of this time. It's breathtaking and full of so much poetic justice that he feels light headed. Derek is hardwired to help everyone, even when he should stay away. This is perfect. 

“We’re here,” the cab driver says. “Are you a werewolf?”

“No, no,” Stiles says, putting his phone away as he looks for cash. “Not a teenager either. I just saw the website, and I was curious.”

“They’re good folks. My nephew has a werewolf friend, and they're pretty close. We were worried when we learned about it, but my sister says this place did the kid a lot of good.”

“That’s great to hear,” Stiles says, handing him money and insisting he keep the change. 

He feels a little silly walking up to the door with his suitcase and suit bag, but now that he’s here he won’t chicken out. There’s a sign on the wall, where under a big ‘Welcome!’ is written that the Center has no tolerance for aggressive behavior and that A/B/O/Born/Bitten statuses must be left at the door.

Stiles has to step aside when a boy and a girl come out, too busy laughing to mind Stiles who’s standing on the sidewalk like a creeper. He takes the opportunity to enter, and Red immediately comes to greet him, being his habitual happy self. It somehow grounds Stiles, who bends to pet Red’s head and deposits his stuff beside the lobby’s chair. A quick look around – the place is simple but warm and welcoming – reveals that Derek is there too, though he's got his back to the door. It's clear in the way his shoulders tense that he's sensed Stiles presence, but he continues his conversation with a forty-something woman near the information desk. 

“- offer rooms, though they tend to go fast for the full moon,” he’s saying. 

“He's terrified he might hurt someone,” the woman says, wringing her hands. 

“It's totally understandable. I personally know several people who got the bite as teenagers. We can help Billy,” Derek says.

She sags in relief. “Good, that's good.” 

“Also, if you're interested, we've just started a support group for human parents, so they can get correct information and share experiences,” Derek adds. 

He’s obviously very comfortable talking about this, and the woman is eating it up. She’s also probably quite dazzled by Derek himself, judging by her body language. A guy who’s competent, gorgeous and offering help to her kid? Stiles can’t fault her. 

“Really?” she says with a smile. 

“Yes, we had lots of great comments. Mindy can give you more information,” Derek says, gesturing as Mindy walks in, coming from what seems to be office space. 

It’s Mindy from the pack, the girl who was with Derek at the bar, and she glances at Stiles who's still crouched with Red. She accompanies her quick one look judgment by a faint lifting of an eyebrow that is very sarcastic, and Stiles immediately understands why those two get along. 

“How can I help you, ma'am?” she then asks the mother, all smiles. 

Stiles can’t help but smirk because it’s obvious that Mindy heard their conversation before walking in at the exact right moment, but it figures that Derek and his employees don’t flaunt their superpowers to the humans.

“Thank you, Mister Hale,” the mother says, grasping Derek’s hand. 

“My pleasure. Mindy will give you all of the information you need.”

Mindy then starts chatting her up about classes and help groups, and only then does Derek turn towards Stiles and Red.

“Hey,” Stiles says as he stands up, doing a little wave because he's a moron.

Derek looks unsure. “Hey.”

Stiles has no idea what to say, now. He's pretty sure that 'I suddenly doubt what my life has become, and even though I have a great thing going with my girlfriend, I’m pretty sure I still love you, too?' is not appropriate, not after insisting so much for a divorce and when Derek knows exactly why he's in town. Derek has visibly moved on, made something great. Throwing his confused feelings in the space between them would make things even more complicated.

“I tried to call you a couple of times,” Stiles says instead. 

He wanted to explain why he hadn’t told Kelly anything, that he wasn’t ashamed of werewolves or of Derek. That it had just been easier not talking about it. Also, maybe, he had also felt the urge to hear Derek’s voice because seeing him again had made Stiles realize how fucking much he had missed him. That there's still a hole in his chest that has never healed properly.

Mentioning the phone calls somehow changes Derek's demeanor, or maybe that's because he just glanced at the bags at Stiles' feet. He could kick himself; it's pretty insensitive to visit your ex-husband with concrete evidence that you're about to marry again. Derek plasters on a smile that aims for friendly but looks painful.

"I'm sorry, I'm very busy," he says, starting to walk backwards towards the offices. "But listen, since you're here, you should take a few flyers, have a look around. Mindy can answer your questions, if you have any."

Stiles hates to see Derek so shaken. "Derek…" he says, and it comes out very soft.

"I've got to go, I'm waiting for an important phone call," Derek says, and he taps on his leg, which makes Red immediately run to him, begging for a treat or a caress. Before Stiles can offer to buy him a coffee - he really thinks they need to talk - Derek glances at the door he's visibly aiming for. "Oh look at that, it's ringing. Bye!" he adds, before bolting, Red on his heels. Stiles is 85% sure no phone is ringing at all.

The view of the door closing behind Derek looks final. He wants nothing to do with Stiles anymore, and even though it's fair considering the whole mess, it hurts like a bitch. Stiles takes a second to mock himself – Jesus, he's pathetic, Derek's reaction is perfectly normal, Stiles is the one who abandoned him after all – before he takes his bags and leaves. He can take a hint.

**

It's a beautiful day to get married, with a clear blue sky and the temperature cool enough that being dressed in a tux isn't uncomfortable even at mid-day. Upon Kelly's instructions, the terrace at the Grand Hotel where they are having the ceremony is decorated with simple white bouquets and it's frankly gorgeous. Stiles, standing near the judge with Scott and his former roommate Rick as his best men, is scanning the guests, waiting for Kelly. All of his friends are here, from Beacon Hills and Boston, apart from Derek. Even Cora is present, at the moment pleasantly chatting with his dad as they are waiting for the bride. The juxtaposition of Stiles' two lives is frankly weird, and there are knots in his stomach. He used to feel this kind of anxiety before something supernatural would hit, but right now he's pretty sure that it's normal pre-wedding jitters. He hopes so. 

Music starts and after a couple of chords Kelly appears at the end of the aisle, radiant and so very beautiful. Kelly's dress is almost ethereal, she has small white flowers woven in her blond hair and a smile so bright, so happy, that Stiles' sense of impending doom lessens. Kelly's the best person he's ever known, a constant source of comfort and gentle love, and he's damn lucky to have her in his life. 

Scott bends to whisper into Stiles' ear. "At least she's not injured."

Stiles chuckles and throws him a grateful look as the tension under his skin lowers ever more. Until there is a commotion at the terrace's entrance, that is.

"Let me in, I need to talk to Mister Stilinski!" he hears. Whoever it is sounds harried and immediately all of the werewolves in attendance tense up. 

"The Sheriff is not on duty," Isaac says to the little man he has intercepted. Stiles can't see who it is properly, his view blocked by Isaac and Kelly, who has stopped walking down the isle to check out what is going on.

"No, no, the groom!" The person protests and he somehow manages to slip out of Isaac's grasp and duck around Kelly, coming fast towards Stiles. To his complete surprise, it's Mr. Buford, his lawyer. 

"You are one hard man to get in touch with," Mr. Buford tells Stiles, sweat on his brow and clothes a little askance. He has the divorce papers in his hands and Stiles' stomach drops.

"Mr. Buford, he signed the papers," Stiles says urgently. Derek isn't trying to sabotage his wedding, is he? He wouldn't do something like that. "What are you doing here?"

"He did... you didn't," Mr. Buford says.

"What?" Stiles exclaims. He grabs the divorce papers and, yes, Derek's signature is everywhere it's needed, but Stiles' own lines are totally blank. He can't believe he sent the copies unsigned. 

"You mean I'm still married?" he asks.

"Well, not unless you want to be," Mr. Buford says.

Kelly has walked up to them, and she looks a mix of confused and annoyed. "Really, Stiles? I thought you took care of this."

"It's an honest mistake, Kelly," Stiles says. Wow, this is pretty lame, he's ruining her day. "Does anybody have a pen?"

Stiles sure doesn't have one on his person at the moment, and all around him he sees people tapping pockets or going through purses. After excruciating seconds, just as Stiles is about to beg Scott to run into the hotel to get one, Cora steps closer, a pen in her hand.

She has an eyebrow raised in the patented Hale fashion as she extends it to Stiles. "These things don't just happen, you know."

She's right. It doesn't, especially not to their little gang. Stiles looks over to his dad, who is watching him patiently, as neutral as ever. He likes Kelly a lot, in fact he made a heartfelt speech at the rehearsal dinner the night before about how Kelly is obviously great for Stiles, but he's always had a soft spot a mile wide for Derek, too. Then there's Scott who's biting his lip, letting Stiles come to his own conclusion. 

It's as if outside forces want to prevent this wedding from happening. Kelly adores him, and she's great, but... Stiles is hesitating, the point of the pen to the paper. That's enough to realize that his head and his heart are saying two different things.

Stiles straightens up, turns to the woman who's been his best friend for years. "Kelly...  
You don't want to marry me."

"I don't?" she answers, looking shocked.

He shakes his head. "No. No, you don't... not really. You see, the truth is that I gave my heart away a long time ago. My whole heart, and I never really got it back. And I don't even know what else to say, but I'm sorry. I can't marry you, and you shouldn't want to marry me."

Because she is an absolute delight, Kelly doesn't get mad or cause a scene; she just just stands there, bemused.

"Wow," she breathes out. "So this is what it feels like."

Stiles feels terrible and like a complete monster, she doesn't deserve this at all. He wishes he'd had his epiphany months ago and that he didn't have to break up with her like this in front of all of their friends on their wedding day. He's always been prone to ignore the situation until it blows up in his face.

Patricia is rightfully outraged, closing in to protect her best friend and glaring daggers at Stiles. Her pink chiffon dress with layers of material and ribbon does nothing to make her look less menacing at the moment and Stiles steps back.

"That's it?" she all but shouts. "You're just going to let him humiliate you with some bullshit  
about an ex-husband?"

Kelly looks at her, then at Stiles, and tilts her head to the side. 

"Yeah, I think I am," she says softly. 

She even smiles, so understanding, and hugs Stiles who feels even more like a jerk. Kelly's a wonderful person and deserves so much better than him. 

"Excuse me," she says as they separate, eyes starting to well up. 

She flees back to the Hotel, Patricia on her heels bitching about how unacceptable this is. They rarely saw eyes to eye over the years, but Patricia is absolutely right. 

Stiles is left staring at the stunned audience, who frankly look as if they'd love popcorn right now. Kelly's small family looks more distressed, which is to be expected.

"Now what?" Isaac cries out, because of course he's that kind of asshole.

Stiles grins. This weird day sure did hammer the point home of what he really wants.

"Hey everyone," he shouts. "If you're friends of the groom, stick around! I'm going go find me... a groom!"

There's a cheer from the Beacon Hills folks and Stiles can't stop smiling as he grabs the car keys a beaming Scott offers him. As he rushes to the parking lot, he really hopes he still has a chance with Derek.

Derek's trying to fill out some paperwork, but his head is not into it at all. He can't concentrate and the words blur before his eyes. All that he can think about is that it's Stiles wedding day, and that the man he still loves is officially tying his life with someone else. His stomach is rolling.

Cora stopped by on her way to the ceremony wearing a pale peach colored dress, hair artfully styled, and Derek’s heart just sank. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought about the whole pack being there, but of course they would. They’re all friends with Stiles.

"Hey, there's a wedding about to go down," she said.

"Yeah, I heard mention of it a time or two."

Cora sighed. "You know, Derek... You're my brother and I love you, but sometimes you are too stubborn for your own good."

"He made his decision, Cora," Derek had said, throwing his pen on the desk. 

What was he supposed to do? Try to convince a guy he hadn't been with in six years to ditch his fiancée, the girl he lives with in Boston, to give him another chance? Do the cliché "I object!" when the minister asks the audience if someone has something to say or forever hold their peace? No, he didn't think so. 

"For somebody who's been holding onto something so hard, you're pretty quick to let it go," Cora argued.

"You know, I can't control what he wants and what he does. I never could. And I don't want to start now," Derek said, rubbing his hands over his face. He hasn't slept in days, since Stiles came to the Center, and he's a mess. 

Cora sighed, came over to kiss his forehead, and he let himself be hugged. 

"I'm sorry, I really am," she said. "I love you, bro. Try not to mope too much."

"No promises," Derek had said with a smirk. 

He thinks he's allowed, after all. He'll probably make an appointment with Dr. Travis, it would help to talk about the mess of his feelings with someone.

Derek's brought back to the present when the front door opens violently. Derek reflexively rolls his eyes because he's told so many kids so many times that it's not a barn door that it's not funny. He's about to shout a reminder when footsteps rush and slide into the offices.

"Derek? Derek?"

Stiles? Derek has no time to run or even decide how to react before Stiles reaches his door. He's wide eyed, dressed in a form fitting tuxedo that makes him look fantastic but his hair is wild, as if he's been tugging on it.

"Hey! There you are!" He says, grinning when he sees Derek. "You owe me a dance."

Which makes no sense. He doesn't seriously expect Derek to go to his wedding reception, right?

"Nice suit," Derek says. "Where's your wife?"

"I'm looking at him," Stiles says. "Apparently, you and I are still hitched."

Derek's heart starts beating hard. Harder.

"Is that right?" he says slowly.

"Yeah," Stiles says, and his heart is racing too. He smells cautiously eager. "Why didn't you tell me you came to Boston?"

"I needed to make something of myself," Derek answers. 

"About done?" Stiles enquires.

Maybe he is, maybe he's not, Derek honestly cannot say. If they give their relationship another try and Stiles leaves again, he's not sure he's strong enough to survive it. 

"You say it as if it's easy," Derek says.

"At least I fight for what I want," Stiles replies.

"Oh, and what do you want, Stiles?" Derek asks. True, he could have fought to get Stiles back, when he left. But it's not like Stiles tried to fix things either. This morning he was supposed to get married to someone else, and now here he is. "I don't even think you know."

"You're the first man I ever kissed, Derek," Stiles says, slowly walking closer. "And I want you to be the last."

He's truthful and what he's saying is so close to everything Derek has ever wanted that it's terrifying. 

"Maybe you and I had our chance," Derek replies, because he needs to think about this. 

He can't give in just because Stiles suddenly figured they are not done after all and snaps his fingers. He straightens some papers on his desk, gets up and moves towards the connecting door that leads into into Mindy's office (conveniently opposite of where Stiles is standing right now).

"Fine!" Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Have it your way, you stubborn ass!"

That is so reminiscent of the way they'd interact, before, that Derek chuckles and turns around. Who is he kidding, he loves this man too much. If Stiles starts pursuing him again, there's no way he's not going to cave. It's what he wants too, after all.

"Why do you want to be married to me, anyhow?

Stiles grins because, as always, he can read Derek like a book. He rapidly walks over until he's in Derek's space, and gently puts a hand on his neck. It sends a jolt of pure rightness down Derek's spine. 

"You know it," Stiles murmurs, looking straight into his eyes. He's so beautiful, and Derek feels as if his heart will explode. "You and me? It's until the end. And we're not dead yet."

"Until death do us part?" he asks, putting his hands on Stiles' waist. He wants to pull him in, never let him go again.

"Yeah," Stiles says and Derek surges forward to kiss him. He's done waiting. From now on, he's going to be more proactive, let Stiles know what he wants, what he needs, too. And right now, what he needs is Stiles, all of him. 

It takes only seconds for the kiss to turn desperate and needy, both of them groping and pulling, unable to get enough of each other. It's overwhelming in the best way possible and Derek feels lightheaded, shuddering under Stiles' touch. When Stiles starts kissing down his neck, Derek tilts his head to the side to give him more access. His heart is beating so hard he wonders if Stiles can hear it, feel the way they're in synch already. 

"I'm sorry, I love you, I've always loved you," Derek says, a truth that he's been holding on to for so long. It feels great to let it out, to have Stiles finally hear it.

"Shhh, please, you've got nothing-," Stiles says, grabbing Derek's face, kissing him ardently once more. "I'm sorry, so sorry I ran away. I love you, too. I never stopped loving you."

"Okay, okay," Derek says, pulling Stiles even closer. When Stiles grinds against him he moans, it feels so good. 

"Fuck, fuck," Stiles curses. "It should be illegal being so hot, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Derek laughs, because if it's anything like what Stiles does to _him_ , it should indeed be outlawed. He's going crazy with desire, and he's so close to coming in his pants it's not even funny. Stiles grins and he starts unbuckling Derek's belt, rapidly opening his jeans. Derek is breathing hard, more aroused by that simple gesture than he's been in years. Since Stiles left. 

"Oh, god," he moans when Stiles drops to his knees and takes Derek pants and boxer-briefs down with him.

Stiles has a hand on his dick and Derek can't help it, he moves into the touch, grips Stiles' shoulder and wishes he'd taken the time to get him out of the tux. The way Stiles is looking at his cock intently while wetting his bottom lip makes Derek whine with need. Stiles looks up at him with blown pupils and Jesus fuck, Derek has missed this.

"I haven't done this since, you know," he says, and even though he could have been with other men doing other things, Derek feels a vicious satisfaction at the idea that no one else knows Stiles' mouth, not like this. 

"It's okay," he says nonetheless, cupping Stiles' cheek with his palm and dragging his thumb under his lower lip. "Whatever, it's fine."

Done with the hesitation, Stiles licks up Derek's cock and then takes him in. It's a good thing that Derek has his back to a wall because his knees almost give out at the perfect wet heat of Stiles' mouth. He immediately starts bobbing and sucking and Derek knows he's not going to last. Stiles is fighting with his own pants, and Derek can see him shove them down, then fist his dick.

"So good, so good," Derek babbles. "I've missed you."

Stiles hums, looking up as he sucks hard, and Derek comes with a shout. The pleasure is so sharp it feels as if his nervous system is being completely rewired, in the most exquisite way. He's barely back to coherent thought when Stiles pulls off Derek's cock to lean his forehead next to his hip, panting, his arm working furiously. Derek wants to pull Stiles up, finish him himself but it's too late as Stiles groans deeply, coming too. Derek cards his fingers in Stiles' hair, making soothing noises as he rides his high.

"That's it, yeah," Derek says, before kneeling down and dragging Stiles into a kiss. It's less urgent, now, but still full of want and feelings. It's perfect. Derek wonders how he survived without Stiles for so long, and he's more than sure that he won't be able to anymore.

"Will you stay?" he asks against Stiles' lips when they separate to breathe. "Or take me with you, this time?"

Stiles leans away, searches Derek's face. "You'd do that for me? Leave the pack, leave this?" he says, gesturing to the center.

"Yes," Derek says immediately. He doesn't even have to think about it, if he gets to be with Stiles again. "I've been thinking of opening a Center up East, anyway."

Stiles laughs, which is the best thing in the world. 

"I'm better, now," Derek says, reverently touching Stiles' cheek, the faint lines that have appeared at the corner of his eyes. It kills him a little that he missed so many years. "It won't be like before, I swear."

"I've changed, too," Stiles says. "We're going to make this work, I promise."

They kiss again, and again. Frankly, Derek would be perfectly happy to stay here, kneeling on the hard wood of his office's floor with his husband – that's such a surprise, a good one - in his arms, but after a while Stiles starts bitching about how it's hell on his knees so they get up and start fixing their clothes in between more kisses and some groping. Derek is tempted to strip Stiles and fuck him on his desk, but no, he's going to take him home and they won't leave the bedroom for days. Start to make up for lost time.

This plan is derailed when Allison walks into the office, and she beams when she sees them all over each other.

She does shake her head, though, making a gesture that encompasses them. "Okay, that's enough."

"What seems to be the trouble, officer?" Stiles asks cheekily, even though Allison's in a cute red dress, not in uniform. 

She plays along. "I'm here to bring you in, young man!"

Derek chuckles. "What did he do this time?"

The dimples are out in full force when Allison answers. "Well, the way I hear it, it seems he ran out on a perfectly good cake!"

**

"Well, folks, look who finally made it to their reception!" Scott announces, as Derek waits behind with Stiles. He goes in for a small kiss because being able to do it again will never get old. Stiles grins and pecks right back, as Scott continues his introduction. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mr. Stilinski-Hale!"

The cheers and applause are loud and happy as Derek walks them into their Friday hang out bar. Allison explained on the way over that Cora convinced the owner to open the place early to accommodate them, which felt more appropriate for a party than the Grand Hotel ballroom that was booked and decorated with Kelly's instructions. Derek is carrying Stiles in his arms bridal style, while his moron of a husband fist pumps victoriously with the arm he was using to hang on to Derek's shoulder a moment ago, hamming it up. There's more hollering when Derek puts Stiles down and it's revealed that they're cuffed together by the other hand, even though Allison frees them immediately. 

"You might want to keep those for the honeymoon!" Isaac yells, which causes another round of cheering.

"Oh, definitely!" Stiles says, grabbing the bracelets back from Allison and making a show of sliding them in Derek's back pocket. Derek laughs but he feels his ear grow hot with embarrassment _and_ arousal - he's pretty sure he's going to get teased about this forever - and from the corner of his eyes he sees the Sheriff facepalm.

If you'd asked Derek two hours ago, he'd probably have said that this was one of the most miserable days of his life. And now, suddenly, he has everything he ever wished for, starting with Stiles in his arms and his pack happy and celebrating around them. He spots the wedding cake in the corner where the traditional bride and groom have been switched to blue and red Rock 'Em Sock 'Em robots. Derek also hears Cora and Scott bickering near the old jukebox as they debate on the best song to start the festivities.

"Hey, Scott!" Derek shouts. Scott immediately turns to them, and Derek smiles. "Make it a slow one."

Scott all but bounces like a puppy, grinning and eager to please. "Got it!"

Derek doesn't wait for the song to start to gather Stiles into his arms, pulling him flush. Stiles throws his head back to laugh, but dutifully hooks his arms around Derek's neck nonetheless. There's a flush high on his cheeks from all of the emotion, and he's looking back at Derek as if he's hung the moon.

"And they lived happily ever after?" Derek asks. Oh, they'll fight, Derek's sure of that, but he thinks they can make it.

"You've got it, big guy," Stiles answers, and he sounds absolutely convinced. It's good enough for Derek.

Taking no mind of the pack's chorus of 'awws', Derek kisses Stiles, swaying gently to the music.

 

The End

.

**Author's Note:**

> To the people here in the notes to know more about the pairings/content:
> 
> The short version:
> 
> This starts with Stiles/OFC, and contains mentions of Derek/OFC, but is ultimately a Stiles/Derek happily ever after story. Stiles' girlfriend, Kelly, is not evil or a bad person, and is never written as such – quite the contrary. There is no cheating.
> 
> A longer rundown about plot points and more about the relationships, very spoilery:
> 
> Stiles and Derek's marriage imploded before he left for Boston, but at the time it was unhealthy for the both of them. Not because of domestic violence or anything like that, but because it was too emotionally draining. Eventually Stiles built a new life in Boston, clearly let Derek know he wanted a divorce and years later got a new girlfriend. She's great, by the way, I hope you like her too.
> 
> Derek, on the other hand, never really moved on even though he tried. When he comes back to Beacon Hills, Stiles has to face everyone he left behind, meaning Derek, his dad, Scott and the rest of the pack. Emotional and on edge, Stiles is a real jerk at times, be warned. Especially to Scott, Derek and Kelly. He does make it better later. Except to poor Kelly, she doesn't deserve what happens to her at all.
> 
> There is no physical partner betrayal in the fic, not until Stiles realizes what he really wants. His heart wavers, though. Sterek is endgame, and if that's what you are looking for I guarantee a sappy (and sexy) happy ending. The whole fic is based on a romantic comedy, after all!
> 
> **
> 
> I want to thank the lovely [keyweegirlie](http://keyweegirlie.livejournal.com) for allowing me to use a triskele divider she'd made in our collaboration for Until the end starts as a base for the POV dividers. In fact, this is a chance for me to pimp her magnificent artwork for that story again, that you should go see [here](http://keywee-icons.livejournal.com/29876.html)!
> 
> **
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. :)
> 
> (as a FYI, I'm on Tumblr [here](http://mariloucoco.tumblr.com), new friends & asks are welcome :) )


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